Kiss
by yellowJsquid
Summary: Lydia, lured to her first college party by a hot date, is thrown into a deadly game with the accidentally released and resentful ghost with the most. BJL Movieverse
1. In which there is an invite

Lydia Deetz stood in the middle of her new dorm room. It was small, and the walls were thin, but it was hers. She sighed. Having finally been accepted into college to get a degree in photography, she'd decided to move out of her parent's house (the Maitlands had been crushed) and onto school grounds.

The woman smiled. Here in the city she was free of Delia's horrid sculptures, her father's absent-mindedness, and the Maitlands' constant worry. But most of all, she was free of memories.

The guilt had seeped in a week after 'the incident'. She felt bad for not marrying Betelgeuse, after he'd kept up his end of the bargain. Lydia knew it was stupid, he'd tried to kill her father and almost Otho, so what did she owe him? Not a damn thing.

But the guilt said otherwise.

The gothic lady had always been a woman of virtue, good on her word and dependable. But that night, with an undead pervert standing beside her in a god-awful crimson tux, she had backed out, afraid. And after he'd kept his end of the bargain, she let him get eaten by a sandworm.

Lydia shook her head. She really needed to stop thinking about him, but it had filled her mind for almost five years as she finished high school and gone through a number of temporary jobs as she'd scrounged for the money to go to college. For half a decade, she'd felt bad for refusing him. After five years of thoughts about him, it was hard not to think of the ghost with the most!

She felt unconsciously for the ring on her left hand. She'd begun wearing it three days after Betelgeuse was eaten by a sandworm. It was really a pretty ring. A black marble band with a small square ruby, rimmed with white gold. It was completely to Lydia's tastes, which had changed very little as she matured. In fact, she was even a little more morbid than when she had been sixteen, eating Cantonese as the first family dinner in the new house.

The opalescent woman turned to look at the boxes that contained her belongings. With a long sigh, she dragged the closest box towards her, sat down, and began to unpack.

**BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE **

As Lydia Deetz's mind wandered to him, Betelgeuse himself sat in a waiting room. He'd been there for five years, during which he'd not only paid a hefty sum to resize his head, but had also made a list of horrible, horrible deaths for each member of the Deetz family. Each list had been over two hundred grim punishments long, but he'd taken the time to organize them into alphabetical, most painful to least painful, most fun to least fun, easiest to hardest, wettest to driest, hottest to coldest, and was midway through Delia Deetz's 'Most stapler-induced to least stapler-induced when his number was called. In all honesty, his number wasn't called as much as Juno-burst-through-the-door-in-a-fit-of-rage-and-screamed-at-him-to-go-with-her. He followed her casually, still in the crimson tux, into her office and sat down without invitation.

"So what's up, Junebug?"

"This is NOT a time for laughter, Betelgeuse!"

Betelgeuse realised she must really have been angry to allow herself to spit his name. Anyone could realise that Juno was in the foulest of moods, and should NOT be crossed. Betelgeuse was NOT just anyone. He grinned.

"Pardon me? Didn't catch that last part…"

"I swear, one more word out of you and I'll stick you behind a desk before you can say 'I do'!!"

Now he understood what was bugging her. The kid, Linda or something. Lyda? Lydia? That was it! Lydia!

"Listen, Juno…if this is about Lydia an' me getting' hitched-"

"It bloody well is about you and that poor girl getting 'hitched'!" The older ghost hissed, smoke puffing from her slit throat. "You tried to force her into marrying you! And then you were eaten by a sandworm and NO ONE can figure out how you've survived, _do you know how much paperwork there is when you do something no ghost has ever done before??_ " The scruffy man lifted himself proudly at her last remark.

Juno scowled. "Don't take that as a compliment."

B Shrugged. "Closest thing to a compliment I've got in over a century."

Slipping into her chair, the caseworker produced another cigarette to replace the quickly disappearing one she currently nursed, and sighed. "They wanted to exorcise you, you know."

Betelgeuse sat up frigidly. "What?!"

"They're fed up with your antics, B. They want you out of their hair! It's a miracle they didn't send you to the lost souls room, and that was only because I told them you'd behave!"

"You stood up for me?" He snickered. "That's stupid."

Juno huffed. "I know, but I believe in your ability to change, B! You have to calm down that silly streak of yours or you'll be gone in less than a week!"

BJ rolled his eyes, but the concern in Juno's eyes touched him a little bit. Just enough to soften his resolve to be wicked.

"I'll try. No promis-"

"B!"

"Fine okay, okay!! I p- I prom…I prrrrooommmmmiiiiisssssssse…" He growled, spitting out the last syllable.

"Good. Now don't let me hear of you causing any more trouble! Now get out of my office. I've got all YOUR paperwork to do."

She pushed him out the door and slammed it behind him. BJ put his hands in his pockets. "Cripes. What's her problem?" And with that he floated off towards his grave.

**BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE**

Lydia heaved a sigh and plopped down on her second-hand navy loveseat. She'd finished unpacking after four gruelling hours of indecision, and looked around the room.

She was supposed to have shared the room with a girl named Lily, but Lily had been in a terrible accident four days before she was to arrive. Unable to fill her dorm room slot, the administration had simply given Lydia the entire room. It was a fair-sized room, with it's own bathroom/shower facility, and after she had removed the bed that was supposed to be Lily's (She'd been allowed to store it in a large janitorial shed on the grounds) with the help of a few guys (who'd charged ten bucks each, the jerks) she was able to put in a loveseat, her own bed, her dresser, a small desk/table, and a computer. Although she wasn't exactly fanatical about the color scheme of the walls (dull cream), she felt that with her spider web bedspread, skull lampshade and black-stained furniture, the place was liveable.

She looked at the hanging bat-clock on her wall, which read ten-thirty five. With a yawn, she pulled herself into a pair of red pyjamas speckled with black cats and pulled herself into bed. Tomorrow she started classes, and she wanted to be ready. She set her alarm for 7:30.

**BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE**

BJ pouted. The ghost was on a leash, and he knew it. Exorcism was too serious to shrug off, and he didn't want to end up in the lost souls room, surrounded by shrivelled ghastly remains of people who were desperate for freedom. Not to mention the lack of babes! He shuddered. No, being exorcised was out of the question. The only way he was getting released was if someone said his name three times on purpose. The real curse of his name was the fact that the person chanting it had to know they were summoning him. Either that or the person they were talking to had to make the mental connection to him. Therefore, even if the listener did know of him, they would have to consciously make the connection to him! Aargh!! How was he supposed to do that!? Everyone he'd 'worked' with hated him! There was no getting out of this one. He would probably have to be good for the next couple of centuries at least!

Betelgeuse pouted.

**BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE**

Lydia's alarm rang on time, rousing her from her dreamless sleep. Groggily she rose from her bed to head to the shower, then to her wardrobe for the first day of classes' garments. She chose a knee-length plaid red skirt, a tight fitting black t-shirt which read: 'No heart warming stories' and a choker with a red heart set in iron, which dangled from a loop with held the plaid band together. Her hair was thrown into a messy ponytail atop her head and her striped-stockinged feet were shoved into black army boots. Her backpack stood waiting by the door, where she'd packed it last night. Breakfast was the large coffee she purchased from the student-run coffee shop on the grounds to the side of the center courtyard, before she made her way to a history of photography 207.

Lydia was the second to arrive at 8:15, after a small Asian girl. She took a seat near the back of the class, and watched as her peers filtered in. There was a chirpy looking brunette girl with a short, freckled boy who looked slightly abashed at her attention. There was a tall blonde boy with striking features, followed by a ditzy-looking blonde and a redheaded guy in a hoodie listening to headphones. Two more average couples, and a shy-looking raven-haired girl with large glasses entered before the professor (a distinguished man with a full head of chestnut-brown hair, going slightly grey at the temples) came in and introduced himself as Professor Derkin. He also wrote it on the board in large, green letters.

"Okay, class. This is our first day, and we need to set some boundarie-" He was cut off as a boy entered the room. He was a tall, brunette boy with eyes so blue that even from her seat high above the class, Lydia could clearly see them glint. He wore a green t-shirt with a denim jacket and faded jeans. He had a statuesque chin and a dimple on a great complexion, accompanied by a thin, perfect nose. He was gorgeous.

"you're late." Prof. Derkin told the boy. "Do you have an excuse?"

The boy grinned. Lydia's heart skipped a beat. "Yessir. I was on my way over here when this car pulls over, and this guy grabs me! They haul me in and drive off, then they begin to talk about the CIA, terrorists and extraterrestrials, then they give me this box of smarties-" he produced a box of smarties from his pocket-"and they tell me not to eat them and to give them all to the girl in black! Well, I try to ask them questions but they wouldn't hear of it! They just turned the car around, dropped me off here and drove off!" He finished with a spectacular show of dumfoundedness with a huge shrug and a befuddled facial expression that didn't quite hide the mischievous grin. Professor Derkin frowned, but turned back to the board. "Don't let it happen again. Please take a seat, Mr….?"

"Howle. I'm Axel Howle." Axel surveyed the room, his eyes resting on each student in turn before reaching Lydia. A smile graced his features before he made his way up the aisle to sit next to her. The Goth played it cool. "Can I have your smarties?"

"Are you the woman in black?"

"My whole world."

"Good enough!" He produced the smarties and she held her hand out. He tapped the box so that a good few poured out, and she thanked him.

"What's your name?" He asked, watching Prof. Derkin.

"Lydia. And you're…?" She knew the answer, but felt it was better to drag it out of him herself, mimicking his avid attention to the professor.

"Axel howle."

She smiled, and ate a blue smarty. This was definitely going to be her favourite class.

**BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE**

Betelgeuse was done pouting, and was now fuming. He hated her! Lydia Deetz! Where did she get off getting him in trouble after he held up his end of the bargain? Why wasn't SHE under threat of exorcism?? How come The Powers That Be were after his blood and not hers?? It was unforgivable! It was ridiculous! It was outrageous!! He grabbed a bottle of whiskey off the table to his side, which was littered with candles of all shapes and sized, which was his only source of light. He chugged the bottle until it was empty, then threw it against the opposite wall. It shattered, and littered the floor with broken glass. Fuck the Powers That Be. Fuck Lydia Deetz, and Fuck the World. He grabbed another bottle of booze, and pulled a cockroach out of his inside pocket. He bit off the thing's head, and it writhed in his hands. Fuck Lydia Deetz. Fuck Lydia Deetz. Fuck Lydia Deetz. He ate the rest of the insect in his hands. If only the wedding had gone on for one more minute! If only he'd been able to kiss her! The ring was on her hand, the 'priest' had pronounced them man and…well, he hadn't said it, but he'd had the intent! If only he'd kissed her!

He took another swig of whiskey.

And another.

And another.

In fact, it was only after he had finished that bottle and was halfway through the next when he started to think. What if he kissed her now? What if he was summoned, and he kissed her? Would that make them married? Did it count if she wasn't wearing the ring?

He thought about it for a long, long time.

BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE 

Lydia's next two classes passed in a blur of first-day blather, Teacher names, course guidelines and equipment requirements. She made three other friends that day. Patrick was a tall, muscular guy with dull features but a likeable disposition. Anya was a pale blonde-girl with a sort of held-back psychotic nature. Quiet when around strangers, and quirky-insane around friends. Finally, Nadia was a raver candy-kid with half her head shaved, and the other half dyed orangey-blonde. She was high when Lydia met her, and they hit it off instantly, when Nadia told a boy who was hitting on her that he was a pussy tard. She then kicked him in the shin.

The four of them spent their lunch break together, talking about how lame certain courses/professors were. Nadia was in full swing telling them a story about a party she'd gone to on the weekend when Axel approached them.

"Lydia! Hey!" He'd said, flashing his award-winning grin.

"Axel! Care to sit down?" She asked, issuing to a spot beside her. He stuck his hands in his pockets and shook his head. "Nah. Just wanted to see if you were free this weekend?"

Anya and Patrick looked away, embarrassed. Nadia grinned and gave Lydia a knowing smile. Lydia raised her eyebrows and cocked her head playfully. "Why?"

"I might know a guy who knows a guy who's throwing a 'The-beginning-of-the-first-crappy-semester-party."

"Oh you might, might you?

"Yup." He smiled at her, and she lost herself momentarily in his eyes, before regaining herself. "I might like that."

"Great! Can I meet you here on Saturday at, oh, say eight?" He asked, his blue eyes sparkling.

"Nope."

"I see…"

"Eight fifteen."

He brightened. "Great!" Then he turned on his heel, shot her a grin before sauntering away.

Lydia watched him walk off until Nadia shoved her shoulder. "I didn't know you knew such a hot guy! When you dumps you can I have him?" Lydia frowned at her but then laughed. "Yeah, sure."

**BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE**

A/N: There's Chapter one of my first Betelgeuse Fanfic. As you may have noticed this is completely movie-verse, because the cartoon isn't serious enough for this fic. I know some of you may be waiting for me to update my other stories, but You've gotta understand! The only stories that aren't one shots are Sakura's summoning Experience and Next Generation! Kakashi's secondstring! Of the two of those, I've got a writer's block for Kakashi's secondstring, and I hate Sakura's summoning experience and may never update it!

See you next chap! (This one I promise to update!)


	2. In which there is a party

Lydia's semester seemed to be off to a great start- some good friends, a cute guy who seemed interested in her, and her very own dorm room! Her classes were easier than she'd imagined, and she found herself with plenty of spare time for painting and photographing whatever interested her. Photography had always been fascinating to her, with each picture linked to a different feeling and memory. She used an instantly processing camera for personal use because she didn't enjoy waiting for pictures to develop, she found that the more time away from a picture, the less a bond it and she shared.

So it was, as she sat on her bed going through older albums, that she came across the first photos of the Maitland's house on the day they'd moved in.

The first few were simple things- a banister, the staircase that rose almost majestically in front of her, a few random corners of the room etc. Her eyes moved over a picture of the attic. She smiled at the orb that floated on the bottom left-hand side. She really missed the Maitlands, and wished she could talk to them more. Obviously, they couldn't come visit, and neither could she for getting behind on her homework! She moaned. Classes were easy, yes, but they did give her a lot of homework. She'd had to make a photo essay of no less than one hundred pictures for Photojournalism. She'd finished, of course, but wished she'd done a subject closer to her heart. She'd chosen 'dorm life' and had taken pictures of students and teachers alike. She would rather have done 'the paranormal', but felt that the teacher would have admonished her for tampering with pictures such as her 'Maitlands in sheets' photograph. So she'd done something general, and hoped for the best.

Lydia picked up the Attic photograph again, to examine the orb. Something about it seemed off to her now, and she couldn't figure out why. It was almost as if she'd noticed the problem long ago but forgotten it. With a glance at the clock, she realised it was far past when she'd decided to go to sleep. She put the photographs away regretfully, wishing she could devote more energy into the puzzlement of the attic photo. The girl went through her nighttime hygiene steps before finally sliding into bed. With a soft sigh, she slipped easily into slumber.

**BetelgeuseBetelgeuseBetelgeuse**

The poltergeist paced back and forth in the small dungeon-like room that currently served as his bedchamber. He'd tried to ask Juno about the kiss, but she hadn't responded to his letters, memos, or screamails at all! He supposed it was probably a good thing- in fact; her not responding was an affirmation, really! Beej grinned, he was sure that was it. All he had to do to be free was kiss some girl. He'd be a married man, and he'd be free to do whatever the hell he wanted!

His pacing stopped in front of the fireplace.

Lydia would have to be extra careful, he thought, now that he had a plan.

**BetelgeuseBetelgeuseBetelgeuse**

The week seemed to drag by, clinging to every second until finally, after an eternity, Friday night reared its head. Inside her room, Lydia, Nadia and Anya sat on her bed trying to decide what she should wear the following night. Anya was all in favor of the red tank top with black Capri's and black hiking boots, but Nadia was adamant that she should wear the small slinky dress that Delia had bought for 'festive occasions'. It was light and she liked that the straps didn't come over her shoulders, but fell over her triceps instead. But it felt too formal to her. By the time ten p.m. rolled around, Anya and Nadia's argument had peaked, and Lydia's patience had crumbled.

"That's IT!"

Nadia and Anya looked up, startled, from their poisonously heated debate.

"I can't stand you two bickering any more! I'll wear whatever I damn well please, so get out of here, both of you!" She'd snapped, standing up and stomping one foot. Without a word, Anya left with a scathing look at Nadia. Nadia, however, shouted "Fine!" and left in a huff.

Lydia knew she'd been harsh, but the skull-splitting headache she was experiencing combined with her nervous anticipation energy made any kind of rational actions difficult. She huffed and began tidying the room as if it was the cause of her negativity. She shoved the clothes her friend had been brandishing at her away in its proper place before making her bed and rushing to brush her teeth and wash her face. She felt angry, and regretful all at once. By the time she was finally in bed, she could barely sleep for the resentment.

**BetelgeuseBetelgeuseBetelgeuse**

He was happy now. He didn't even mind that he would have to wait however long until someone said his name. He felt lightened by recognizing that he would be able to be free soon enough. Beej hummed as he read over the personals of _Afterlife Weekly_. It was the same as always, poor fools looking to find their 'soul mate' even in the afterlife, selling useless things, requesting volunteers for God knows what else. Still, he loved reading the sappy pleas of the lost and lonely.

At least _he'd_ never sink to that level!

**BetelgeuseBetelgeuseBetelgeuse **

Lydia awoke the next morning feeling apprehensive and excited at the same time. Today was the night Axel would be picking her up for his friend's party, but she felt bad about yelling at her friends.

'First things first,' She thought. 'I need a shower.'

The hot water felt good on her neck and shoulders as it eased out the tension she'd felt over the course of the last twelve hours. Once clean and dry and dressed, she felt inclined to call Nadia and Anya to apologize. Anya was understanding and forgiving, but Nadia was a little less lenient. Although she still seemed annoyed, Nadia was still nicer again and Lydia felt extremely relieved. On that note, she began the rest of her day.

Both breakfast and lunch were provided by the student-run café, and most of the afternoon was devoted to studying for an upcoming test. At five fifteen, however, she felt it was time to get ready for the party.

When she opened her closet, she realized what a horrible mess it really was, with her clothes hanging and laying as though an explosion had occurred inside its pine doors. Lydia began her attack by bringing most of the mess to her bedroom floor to be inspected. For the party, she felt as though she should wear something nice but not formal. The word 'spunky' felt right to her, and she began to assemble outfits by this idea.

A black sleeveless turtleneck with checkered arm bands seemed appropriate, so long as she arranged the arm bands so they trailed down her left arm from the middle of her tricep to her wrist, with two inches of space between each one. On her right are she wore an elbow-high fishnet glove from which she'd cut the fingers. For pants she chose clingy black jeans with two thin white lines trailing down the sides. With that done, she did her regular makeup and put her hair in an 'up' do hairstyle of her own creation. She then donned her black hiking boots ('Good for all occasions!') and glanced at the clock, which she'd been keeping an eye on. 7:49. Although she knew she'd be early, she decided that going to the designated place would be acceptable.

When Axel's motorbike (a Suzuki Boulevard) rolled up, she smiled and took the helmet he offered her. He was wearing a deep red dress shirt and frayed-looking jeans. His eyes moved over her for a second, appraising her choice of outfit before she climbed on and then they were off. As they flew over the asphalt, she suspected he was hitting every bump and crack in the road on purpose, but she didn't mind. In fact, she enjoyed the thrill it provided as she clung to him.

**BetelgeuseBetelgeuseBetelgeuse**

Happiness was not, in fact, something BJ often found. Giddiness, sure. Pleasure, definitely, but hardly ever happiness. However, the prospect of being free had completely taken over him, and he felt truly happy for the first time in a good century and a half. He had checked up on her, earlier in the week, and felt completely sure he would have his chance soon. He couldn't even begin to explain why, but his anticipation was rising rapidly, and he'd felt compelled to change into his tux full time, in lieu of his favorite outfits. His unruly hair was unkempt and sodden with mud and mould, and he felt quite proud of his particular level of grime. The ring he would've worn as a married man adorned his finger, and he felt exactly as he had on that fateful day so long ago- full of hope, promise and an edgy anticipation. Soon, he would be out. He didn't know how he knew, but he did. Soon.

**BetelgeuseBetelgeuseBetelgeuse**

The large frat house they arrived at had the air of bridled energy pounding to be released. The music wasn't as loud as it could've been, and the yard was still (relatively) intact. Lydia was glad for this, because the lull before the storm would give her a chance to prepare herself for the rest of the night.

Axel parked the bike in the front and the pair dismounted, sending each other a quick, flirtatious smile before making their way towards the house. They entered without knocking; no one would've heard them anyways. The first impression Lydia got from inside the house was that this was exactly what she had hoped for- pure, juvenile, college partying. In her life, Lydia had been fairly laid-back, and hadn't participated in this sort of activity- now, she was sure she'd missed out. As Axel led her through the house to meet various friends whom she almost instantly forgot, the music became steadily louder, and most of the guests (of which, she noted, there were a lot) started dancing with their partners.

The raven-haired lady didn't resist as Axel pulled her into a throng of dancing students, and definitely didn't resist when they began to move to the music, enjoying the beats and nuances of whatever song it was.

As the DJ was taking requests, Lydia felt the need to ask him to play one of her favorite songs- "The Bad touch" by the Bloodhound gang. It was risqué, but she didn't care- in this horde of hormone crazy adolescents, the badder the better. Her song lasted only a few minutes, but the way she and her date were dancing didn't need anymore than a few minutes to lose all control as they danced with abandon.

As most people stopped to get a drink and take a dancing break, Axel lead her over to the snack table in the kitchen, where a couple of guys were crowded around a blender. In the other room, the DJ was asked to play "I'm Your Boogie Man" By KC and the Sunshine Band. It was old, and only a few drunks danced to it. However, Lydia noticed very little of this as the guys in the kitchen jeered and cackled around the whirring and grinding blender.

"What's that?" She called out, trying to sound above the noise of the rest of the household.

"Veerous!" a muffled reply from inside the gang. They all laughed at this and seemed to get even more riled.

Axel grinned. "What?"

"Velerouce!" another guy called, but the pounding music, jeers and blending muffled his reply again.

A little impatient now, Lydia called again, "WHAT?"

"BEETLEJUICE!!"

A/N: okay, I know this seems kinda rushed, but trust me on this, okay? I'm trying to keep it low-key. I'll try to fit in Beej more, because even I know he's lacking in this story, but for now, just hold on!

Bear with me, I didn't update quick cause I was moving! And I did eventually update, so all is well! Besides, this is the first ever story I actually made more than one chapters for and didn't hate! Cool!

Next chap up (relatively) soon!


	3. In which there is Betelgeuse

"BEETLEJUICE!!"

The lights went out. The silence from the speakers was deafening, broken only by slight static, and all the appliances in the kitchen died as though on command. Through the suddenly still group of rambunctious boys, she could see the blender. Inside it was a mess of black shrapnel-like specks floating in a lumpy, grey concoction. Her mind registered the case of live June bugs and the bottle of scotch that stood beside it on the counter, but dismissed them as unimportant. The darkness was broken only by a flash of dry lightning from outside, and a couple of digital watches from the people in the dim rooms. A few people laughed at the sudden electrical failure, a good couple of girls in the hallway yelped, and a cold breeze seemed to fill the entire house as though it was a living, breathing entity.

Lydia, frozen and horrified, could feel her heart palpitations increase a hundredfold as it hammered her ribcage. This was it, she was sure. She was going to die. That awful, awful ghoul was going to come and kill her, and maybe everyone else. In fact, because she had released him, he was going to kill her father, too, because he'd failed the first time! And then maybe even Delia-! Realizing that her thoughts had taken a negative, unhelpful direction Lydia tried to calm herself, breathing deep and looking around the room to assure herself that it was normal- just a power failure, because how could it be him when he was dead? Twice? Eaten by a sandworm, even! She found her inner dialogue calming, and her heart began to slow down ever so slightly. Until all at once the doors and windows of the building slammed themselves shut with a resounding 'Bang!' that made her (and everyone else) jump a foot in the air, and listen helplessly as they locked themselves just as quickly. There was no getting around that, the young photographer knew. It was Him.

Without meaning too, she let out a small, stressed whimper, which caught the attention of her date. He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off.

"I'm sorry."

----------------------

The moment the three sibilants left her mouth, a disembodied voice floated throughout the house, licking the spines of every drunk and randy kid at the party, grating along the ears like nails on a chalkboard. The voice was rough, but the tone was sultry, dangerous.

"Lydia…"

As the voice faded, all hell broke loose in the Frat house, inebriated students and dates pushed and shoved trying to get to the doors, and those within reach of the entryways clawed at the metal or wood that simply would not budge. The stumbling frantic pandemonium seemed to double the number of people in the house, as all personal space boundaries were breached in the name of right and survival. Lydia, standing motionless next to the frozen, horrified Axel, knew it was useless. He was coming, and he liked an audience. No one was going anywhere. She looked sideways at Axel, wishing to convey the torrents of guilt, panic and pure fright inside of her, but one look into the boy's still- dumbstruck eyes and she knew it was useless- all he could do now was stare and wait for his inevitable fate.

**BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE**

The feeling of release was like water hitting a parched man's lips- refreshing, revitalizing, and creating a sense like everything would be okay. Betelgeuse was inside the house instantly, making a show of his renewed powers. God, he loved being dramatic. Damn suicides in the netherworld didn't understand the rush he got off of it. It was beautiful to watch someone go from barking laughter to horrified screaming almost instantly! And this place- this place (wherever it was) was full to bursting with teens that would soon be doing just that! He stayed invisible, but allowed his voice to drift across the frozen crowds he found occupying the house. From their age, he could guess that they were either high school or college students, which he derived from the great racks and occasional team-emblem. The invisible man smiled. It must have been her. She had released him, either on purpose (though he doubted it) or by accident and now it was time for him to take what was rightfully his.

He cleared his throat quietly before calling out her name in a most singsong way, so the sibilants would send shivers up every spine and cause goosebumps to erupt on unsuspecting arms. It came out perfect, reverberating.

He couldn't have asked for a better reaction. Mass hysteria and horror, entropy that only he could ever cause. The frozen teens became like ants if you step on their mound- absolutely nuts. He grinned as he spotted the small stage that had been erected on a platform for the DJ. He floated over to it and made himself visible upon landing. Slowly he allowed the lights to turn back on, but chose to keep all the appliances off. Easier to be heard if he didn't have to talk over a screeching blender.

He mounted the stage from the left, unnoticed by the frozen DJ. With the return of the lights, most people had calmed down somewhat, and the DJ was obviously trying to appear collected. His façade was broken by the poltergeist's tap to his shoulder, at which point her jumped a full foot and yelped. At the sudden noise of the kid's fear (amplified by the microphone he was in front of) people looked towards the platform.

"Mind if I cut in?" BJ pushed the kid out of the way without pausing for an answer, and addressed the crowd with a "Hey!"

By now, irrationality and curiosity had turned most of the house's residence towards the stage, and he bared his rotting teeth in a smile at the attention. "Without further ado…" He motioned towards the nearest doorway. "I introduce to you…The Entertainment!" from the kitchen burst hundreds of creepy-crawly creatures, from bats to snakes and tarantulas, with the occasional frog or foot-long centipede. Kids screamed and tried to clamber away from the unsightly critters, but they pierced the crowd efficiently until everyone was screeching and flailing, trying to rid themselves of the invading beasts. Betelgeuse scanned the writhing crowd, looking for her. He needed to do it now, before she had the presence of mind to send him back. What would she look like now? Was her hair still black? Was she still a pale, scrawny kid like way back when? How old was she?

His eyes moved towards the kitchen, where he saw a boy frozen from fear. He wasn't looking at him, though, and he hardly seemed aware of the eight-inch spider crawling up his pant leg. He was gaping towards the staircase. The ghost's head turned to follow his gaze, and there she was.

He couldn't help himself from admiring how she'd filled out. Of course, even if he could help himself not to, he wouldn't have. She looked better than he could have imagined, her chest slightly larger than what her frame should have allowed, and her perfect hips followed her tiny waist curvaceously. The lecherous corpse could feel the perverse glee well up inside himself for what he was about to do to that foxy vixen.

**BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE**

She was almost at the stairs when she felt his gaze on her. It was unmistakable, the frigid feeling of his eyes wandering over her like an X-ray, as though he could see right through her. She flinched mechanically at the feeling, but didn't proceed to climb the stairs. He knew he had her, and she knew he knew. Slowly, she turned to face him, hoping her expression didn't reflect her horrid churning terror. She met his eyes, and lightning flashed outside without the benefit of a storm. In his emerald gaze, there was neither mercy nor was there kindness. The predatory gleam was an awful mix of hunger, glee and insanity. In some ways, it was worse than anger or kindness.

"Babes," He said, lowering his head and looking at her out of the corner of his eye. "We're gonna have a hell of a time!"

Without warning, he was in front of her. He had instantly gone from the stage to the stairs, and she couldn't hold back the squeak that left her throat. She struggled only distractedly as he pulled her into a dip reminiscent of a dance move. As they did so, the lights again went out and a dramatic spotlight illuminated them, both now decked out like salsa dancers. However, Lydia was unable to break her gaze away from his throughout the unnatural change in apparel. Her wide eyes were locked on to his, searching for the answer to a nonexistent question. Betelgeuse relished the bewildered look for only an instant, before he gave a frightful smirk that struck her as coyote-like in the quaking recess of her mind. Her heart raced like a rabid greyhound, while his lay flat in his chest like a lead weight.

"What…?" Lydia's breathless gasp shot straight to the dead man's loins, and he brought his face lower, until their noses were touching, before he carefully uttered "You may kiss the bride".

Lydia's confused and horrified noise was cut short by the ghost's ravenous mouth on hers.

The kiss seemed to last an eternity, as her brain slugged along trying to process it. His lips felt horrible- cold and chapped and slightly clammy, but his gaze never left hers. She could see now, with his eyes only centimeters from her own, that they were bright and sparkling like cheap jewelry. His forest-like retinas pierced her own as never-ending kiss dragged on, but neither broke it. Lydia, having never actually been kissed, wasn't thinking clearly enough to push him away. Betelgeuse, however, was just enjoying the firm hold he had on her left buttock. In slow motion, people who had been perplexed and afraid of his sudden disappearance became aware of his new location, and scrambled away sluggishly. In her mind, the word 'Cold' floated around and looked desperately for something else to connect with.

**BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE**

The screams and cries broke the magic of his freedom kiss, and Beej found himself able to break away from the warm sumptuous lips he had captured. He shifted his gaze only for a second to look at the hysterical partygoers, but knew instantly that he had also broken the spell he'd held over her. She struggled suddenly with more strength than he thought possible, and he let her drop to the floor with an unceremonious 'Thud!' which also reverted their clothing to its original state. Glaring up at him, wiping her mouth with a faint blush spread across her cheeks, she looked gorgeous. Her abyss-toned hair fell over her matured shoulders majestically, and he couldn't help feeling aroused. He wasn't sentimental- the sight of this young woman he could now call his wife didn't make him warm or give him butterflies. Her visage simply reminded him that the last time he'd gotten any, some angry little guy with an angry little moustache almost took over Europe. In fact, that didn't even really count because the lady hadn't exactly 'finished the job'! The lewd reminiscences sent another jolt to his nether regions. Sadly, however, he knew it would have to wait- right now; he had to clear up a room full of teens who were in the throes of madness.

"Well," He chortled, looking down at Lydia, "Looks like the party's over. And that means, everybody OUT!" Beej's rough voice shouted the last word, as the doors and windows re-opened and expelled the teens, forcefully, from the house. Those who kept their feet ran- ran for cars or bikes or just sprinted- but those who fell became trampled and lost under the tide of the house's expulsion. The rain had finally broken, and the light mist made the grass slick and difficult to get traction on. Inside the house, Betelgeuse watched amused, and Lydia regained the use of her mind and mouth.

**BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE**

The twenty-one year old stood up behind the fowl man, rippling with anger and embarrassment- That loathsome, evil bastard had stolen her first kiss! Her fists coiled into tight fists, balled at her sides, her face flushed further and she drew in a deep breath.

"BETELGEUSE! BETELGEUSE! BETELGEUSE!" She spat the offending name out with venom, her eyes gleaning for a look of shock, or hatred from him, but none came. In fact, his shoulders shook with a small chuckle, and he cocked his head over his shoulder to look at her with his cunning green eyes.

"No chance, Babes. I'm here for good."


	4. In which there is denial

Outside, an orange cat streaked across the yard, and somewhere a car alarm went off, but none of this mattered to Lydia Deetz. Reality had turned upside down. When she had been twelve, if you'd have told her that she would be married by the age of twenty-one, she would have thought you were insane. Now, not only was she married, but she was married to a ghost. A ghost who had tried to kill her father. Life for Lydia Deetz was complicated enough already without worrying about car alarms or the nocturnal movements of cats. In the foyer of the Frat house she slumped, in front of her Betelgeuse mocked her with his grin, which could no longer be banished with just his name.

"See babes? I knew we'd get hitched! Sorry it took a while," He pulled a lit cigarette from his breast pocket and stuck it between his lifeless lips. "But findin' a loophole in that tight-ass system is like trying to get rid of those little bugs that live in yer pubes, you know?" He scratched his crotch for emphasis, and Lydia felt herself gag.

"What did you do?" The dazed woman heard herself choke.

The poltergeist walked towards the fridge and pulled it open, scanning the contents as he replied, "I married ya. Whaddya think?" He pulled out a jar of pickles.

"You can't be right. No, you're not serious. That can't work." As Lydia struggled to comprehend what Beej was saying, he emptied the jar of its last four pickles and took a swig of the brine. "Believe what you want kid. It's true. Notice how I'm still here even after you uh, (Snort)tried to get rid 'o me." He chuckled in that dusty, pig-like way Lydia remembered and even from across the room she could smell the brine and booze on his breath.

Something in the back of her brain popped, and without thinking, She began to holler.

"JUUUNOOO!!!!!!" Her voice was caked in fear and anger and confusion, so much so that when Juno arrived in a puff of acrid smoke a minute later, she rushed to Lydia's side, expecting the worst.

"Lydia! What's wrong with you? Are you hurt?" Hey rough voice and concern overwhelmed the already precariously-focused girl, and after the outburst all she could do was point at the scruffy man with the empty pickle jar in the kitchen. This was probably for the best, as the holler Juno let out when she saw him could've woken the dead.

"Beetlejuice! What do you think you're doing here? You have no right to be anywhere near this world or this girl!" The caseworker's tirade fell on deaf ears, as the poltergeist had stuck his head back into the refrigerator. "You know you have to be married to someone here to linger on!"

Beej re-emerged from the depths of the appliance with a large onion, which he took a bite out of apple-style before he spoke. "You know," he said, dribbling onion juice down his chin. "I'd love to chat Junebug, but I'm thiiis close to goin' on my honeymoon, y'know. So if you wouldn't mind…" He grinned, scrunching up his nose and eyes as he waved from the wrist as one would when waving goodbye to a toddler.

"Honeymoon!?" Juno and Betelgeuse both swung around to look at Lydia, who had suddenly regained basic motor skills and language.

"Yeah, babes! I'm gonna take ya somewhere nice. But not too nice, ya know? Like maybe…New Orleans!" the ghost grinned at the thought of all of the Mardi Gras he'd attended in the past. The perverse smile made both Juno and Lydia cringe. "Damn those Acadians know how to live!"

Juno stomped towards him and shook her finger under his nose. "You aren't married to her! You can't be! There's no one with holy or government powers to do so present!"

Beej snapped his fingers and became a librarian with a large tomb in front of him, with a large pulpit between himself and the aged ghost in front of him.

"Page 6097 of the spectral code of conduct section 834 - d paragraph 6, if you will." He spun the book around for Juno to read.

Juno donned a pair of horn-rimmed glasses, and read aloud "In the circumstance of a spectral entity (as defined in section 364 – b) entering wedlock with a non-spectral entity (as defined by section 364 – a) under circumstance of outside interference may continue if both rings are present and accounted for, if both persons entering into the wedlock are completely conscious (as defined by section 448 – b) with unimpaired judgment (As defined by section 448 – d) and the ceremony goes unchallenged until completion (As defined by section 725 – a)." The elderly lady slowly took off her glasses. Quietly, she asked, "Does this mean-"

"-That we're married? A couple? Hitched? That I'm officially off the market? Yessir it does!" Betelgeuse rattled off. "Yee-ah! I'm a homemaker now, Junebug! Me and Lyds here, we're gonna get our own house with a white picket fence and a stripper pole!" Beej put his arm around Lydia (who had risen to her feet during the reading) and smiled as if for a family photograph.

"Get away from me!" Lydia cried, ducking away from the unwelcome arm draped over her shoulders.

"Sorry babes. S'you and me now. Can't escape it!" The ghost cackled, and turned back to Juno, adopting a sugary, professional voice. "Thanks for coming to the reception! Hope you had a lovely time! Please feel free to write or –even better- don't!" And with that, he waved his hand and Juno disappeared, without the usual cloud of tobacco behind her.

They were alone now. Betelgeuse faced Lydia, who was holding her hands close to her breast defensively, slowly backing away like a cornered cat. "I'm not married to you."

"That's not what that ring says, Babe." He gestured to the ring on her left hand, and Lydia reflexively stroked its smooth top. She'd forgotten she was wearing it. However, before she could retort, he was before her, his hands on her shoulders as he lowered his mouth to her ear.

"I'm going out. Don't wait up. Don't forget," He ran his hand over her collarbone and knuckles until it touched the cool marble ring on Lydia's frozen hand. "You're married now, and I don't share."

And then he was gone. The house was completely empty. Lydia sank to her knees and couldn't move for another half hour.

**BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE**

Betelgeuse was free. He was outside. No one anywhere could tell him he couldn't be, and he knew it. However, he also knew that there was one small flaw in his master plan- annulment. If Lydia went to Juno and told her that he hadn't exactly 'sealed the deal' yet, then the untrustworthy girl could get an annulment and leave him powerless and back in the goddawful netherworld. But not tonight, He thought. Tonight he didn't want to think of all that, he just wanted to have some fun! He'd sent Juno pretty far away, and hoped that Saturn would be hard enough to escape from that he could have a night off from his scheming and plotting. For a connoisseur of strip joints and peeler bars, it was easy to find the shadiest, dirtiest pub in town and plopped himself down directly in front of the stage.

He wasn't exactly out of place. Most of the sullen, overweight men in the club were near as ragged as he, and probably smelled worse, he thought. A scantily dressed (though skeletal and leathery) waitress took his simple order, and he was able to be comfortable with a drink in his hand just before the first set opened with slow Jazz music and a pole-dancer dressed like a cat appeared onstage. She was also rather leathery, but less so than the waitress, and less skeletal. She wasn't particularly attractive, but after sixty some odd years without any nookie, 'Girl' was his type. His eyes glittered as she swayed to the music, and he finished his beer halfway through the song, throwing the bottle on the filthy floor and beckoning for a new one. The older waitress was like a ninja, and (after the first drink) he didn't hear or see her again. Every now and then, a new bottle or glass would appear at his elbow, and every now and then a new stripper would take the stage.

Two hours in, he took a look around the bar, bored of the slow girl occupying the stage. The club wasn't very big, and its primary illumination was neon sign advertisements hung on the walls over cracks and stains. There were maybe twenty small tables, five of which were occupied. In the back of the room was a secluded couch table, around which he could see three or four men playing cards. He smiled, and stuck a cigar in his teeth before grabbing his beer and making his way over to the smoky table.

"Gents." Beej tipped a nonexistent hat, and didn't ask before he sat down. "Whatcha playin'? Craps? Texas Hold 'em?"

His uninvited intrusion warranted him a few barbed looks, but the man opposite him at the table smiled in a sly, foxy way.

"Blackjack. Anti is fifty bucks."

The ghost returned the smug smile, and pulled out his battered, threadbare wallet. From it he retrieved two twenties and a ten. "Deal."

-------------------------------------

Four hours later and six hundred dollars richer, Betelgeuse emerged from the club and began the search for a hooker through the still-present rain. To him, it didn't matter if she had anything for obvious reasons, so the worse she had it the better for him. STD whores came cheap, and he couldn't catch anything. It was usually pretty easy to tell, and he wasn't picky that night. The first escort he came to, he hired. She was a pretty redhead who introduced herself as 'Cherice'. Cherice had something he couldn't even pronounce, but only costed him fifty bucks for the night. As he didn't exactly have a place, he lead her soaked form into the first dark alley they came to, and proceeded to spend the best fifty bucks he'd spent in sixty odd years.

**BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE**

Lydia found herself in her dorm room, unable to remember the walk back nor the elevator ride up. She peeled off her dripping clothes and ran a shower to relax her. She found that she couldn't get the water hot enough to wash away the past eight hours. Nor could she scrub off the feeling of his lips on hers. She also found she couldn't remove the ring. No matter how much soap she lubricated her finger with, the dark marble band stayed on her finger as if super-glued to it magically (which she didn't doubt was the case at all). It was over an hour under the scalding spray before she gave into her despair and pulled on some flannel pyjamas before getting into bed.

Lydia lay awake for another hour, and she could see the greenish tint of the sun on the horizon. The red numbers on her alarm clock told her that six o'clock a.m. had gone unnoticed. It didn't feel real. She felt too calm. Too serene, as if Friday had never come at all. As if Thursday hadn't occurred. As if Wednesday was a dream. Like her encounter was some kind of dream, some kind of horrible vivid dream that she'd had. A small smile landed on her exhausted lips. It was a dream, that was it. It had been a dream. She wasn't married. No, it was her subconscious, she reasoned. Supplying a dream where she married Betelgeuse to alleviate her guilty anxiety about him.

Her eyes drooped.

Just a dream, that was it.

Just a dream.

Lydia's eyelids closed as the clock turned to seven o'clock a.m., just as the sun appeared on the very edge of the horizon. Curled under her spider web duvet, with a small smile on her lips, because it was all a dream.

It had to be.

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A/N: Okay, I am SO SORRY this update took such a long time. My parents are getting divorced so I'm caught in the crossfire. Anyways, lets all thank my cat Buddy for this one, because I could NOT figure out how to start this chapter until he viciously clawed my leg in an attempt to get attention. It was like a jolt to my system. However, I can't stress enough how important reviews are right now.

Because I'm at such a bad place in my life, I'm writing primarily because you all keep telling me to. I don't want to write, I'm depressed, so if you want me to keep pushing through, I'm gonna need some encouragement. Therefore I'm setting a new goal- I don't write unless I get five reviews from different people (no more than two unsigned) and once I've hit that target, I'll put up a new chapter.

Sorry guys- I just don't have it in me to write if no one's reading.


	5. In which there is tenderness

Disclaimer etc! omg!

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Betelgeuse got back to Lydia's dorm room early in the morning. He didn't have a problem finding her (she was wearing that ring, after all) and had found himself pleasantly surprised that she no longer lived with those idiotic Maitland characters. As he walked in (stealthy, through force of habit) he had looked around, and could feel that Lydia was quite comfortable in the room- it definitely had her aura about it. Creepy crawly designs and a dark, depressing colour scheme…He felt right at home! Unfortunately, as he tip-toed into her room, he couldn't see which side of the bad she was laying on (God she had a ton of pillows! Stuffed under the covers and everything!) And had tripped over something lying on the floor. As if in slow motion, he'd fallen almost directly on top of her. Luckily, he thought, his elbows had caught him before they'd collided. For a moment he froze, expecting her to bolt upright and scream at him, but she did no such thing. Instead, she turned over so that he could see her profile illuminated in the moonlight, and had sighed. The room was silent, so much so that for a second Betelgeuse considered telling the moonlight pouring in from the window to shut up. But, turning back to the woman below him (so close) he had his first chance to really study the girl he'd married.

In the darkness, with thick shadows over pale reflections, he could see that it wasn't just her body that had matured, but so had her face. Her once childish countenance was completely transformed, with high cheekbones, a dainty nose and heavy eyelids. Her neck was slender and long, and in the opalescent light he allowed himself to get very close to her, inhaling her fragrance. She smelled like a morning tulip. A few moments passed, and he slowly picked himself up from his crouch, hoping his knees didn't crack. Through the window, he could tell that the moon was going down- morning would come soon, and it wouldn't be so still then. When she woke, Lydia Deetz would hate him still. The dead man looked back at his bride, and before he could regret it, he placed his lips on her cheek, so softly that it might have been a rose petal. He doubted she would be able to feel the kiss if she was awake, but even so he didn't increase the pressure. This was important to him. It was something that he had witnessed a very, very long time ago between his own parents. A small memory from his life that had remained through the ages when almost everything else had faded, including his own name. In his mind, like a black-and-white movie, he could see his father lean over his mother in the dying light from the coals. He had watched from the doorway, as a small boy. His parents, from what little he could recall, had fought incessantly, but here in this small, fleeting recollection he could see that they cared. And now, as a man himself (albeit dead) he leant over his own wife and mimicked the motion, so carefully. It was then, he supposed, that he understood the meaning behind marriage. It wasn't about infidelity (as he'd believed) but quite the opposite. In that moment, softly kissing Lydia in the moonlight marriage was about tenderness.

It made him sad. He knew that he would never be a good husband, or a good companion, even, but she was bound to him. He'd taken away something that he hadn't understood because he didn't understand it until then. He was sorry.

As he pulled away from her, he knew that the tender feelings would be gone by the morning, and they would be back to their usual cantankerous relationship, but before that he wanted her to know.

Softly, he whispered in her ear. "I'm sorry, Lydia."

And then the moment had gone. He could feel the night's cool hardness sink back into him, and he carefully rearranged the slippers he'd tripped over, and climbed into the other side of the bed.

It was easy to fall asleep.

**BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE**

It was late in the afternoon when Lydia woke up from her coma-like slumber. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and shoved her feet into the fuzzy black slippers laying neatly a few feet from where she'd last put them. She dragged herself to the bathroom, still bleary-eyed, and brushed her teeth without noticing that her hair blow dryer and towels were askew. Slowly, the girl's tired eyelids began to rise, and as she plodded back into her room towards the closet, she couldn't help but think (somewhere in the back of her fuddled mind) that she seemed to have quite a few more pillows than she remembered having thrown asunder on her bed. But Lydia paid her musings no attention, and made her way back to the bathroom after retrieving the outfit of her choice from her closet.

In hindsight, looking back, something should have clicked. But in the gothic lady's traumatized, denial-ridden mind, everything seemed perfectly okay. That is, until halfway through her routine shower.

---------------------------------

Lydia felt a lot more awake now that she was under the hot water, feeling it trickle down her arms as she faced the spray. She massaged soap into a loofa sponge (which she had taken from Delia's bathroom just before she'd left for college) and began to wash away another night's dream-filled excursions. Lydia felt a tiny shudder run through her when she thought about her ludicrous dream. Betelgeuse, Juno and Axel, all thrown together in some kind of strange, creepy vision of her fatigue, how ridiculous! She smiled, figuring she must have just started drinking and lost the rest of the memories of the party. Betelgeuse, come back! Ha! Reflecting on this, the student giggled that while any NORMAL college girl would have been focused on the repercussions of a drinking binge, Lydia Deetz was more worried about a ghost trying to marry her! It was all terribly funny!

What wasn't funny, however, was when the shower curtain opened and a familiar rough voice barked at her. "Move over babes! Yer hoggin' all the water!"

Lydia let out an ear-piercing scream, shouting at the top of her lungs before she snatched the shower curtain to cover herself up in front of the poltergeist (who was currently wearing only a towel and shower cap, she was horrified to note) and stumbled backwards until she was pressed against the shower wall, accidentally shutting off the water as she did so.

"What are you doing in here? Get out! Get out! Why would you-? OUT!" Lydia scrambled for things to throw at him, managing to hit the protesting ghost in the shoulder with the shampoo before he hopped back out of her tub, cursing.

"Come ON babes! We're married! This is normal!" The conditioner caught him square on his chest. "Yow! Watch where you're aiming that, babes! I've got some serious precious goods in the front!!"

"You pig! I'm naked!" Lydia cried, clutching the shower curtain closer.

"Well, that was kinda the point…." He leered at her, and the girl glowered at him.

"You can't be in here while I'm naked!"

"Doesn't look that way to me!" The poltergeist moved to re-enter the tub, but the threat of having soap thrown at him stopped him. "Come on!"

"No! Out! I'll talk to you when….We need to talk when I'm dressed!" She glared at him, and BJ relented. After the events of the early morning, he was a little unsure of himself. He'd have to drink that out later.

"Alright ya prudish….." He grumbled as he left, and Lydia was glad that she didn't have to look at him anymore. The sight of a pudgy, hairy, dirty corpse-body is HARDLY something one should see first thing in the morn….afternoon. Once her shower resumed, Lydia scrubbed all the harder for it. But even as she scrubbed her skin clean, she felt like her mind, her memories were dirty, because it was all true- the whole night was real and she….she was a married woman.

The shower continued uninterrupted, and once she was out, dry, and changed into the clothes she had chosen (although her undergarments were now missing, she noticed.) she stood just inside the bathroom door. On the other side, she knew he was waiting. Lydia took a deep breath, and walked out.

**BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE**

He plopped down on the couch, back in his comfortable overcoat and guide hat. He spread out with one leg on the girl's coffee table, and began to root around in his pocket for something to snack on. Jackpot when he found the maggoty apple.

He'd expected her to take a while (women, huh?) but after only ten minutes the door creaked open. Betelgeuse quickly dropped the rotting fruit back into his pocket, and looked her up and down, enjoying the way she squirmed under his gaze. She looked pretty- a black skirt (much shorter than the first one he'd ever seen her in thank God) and fishnet leggings, and a red-and-black striped tank top with a collar and various bracelets. Her hair was thrown up into a ponytail, still a bit wet, and her cheeks were still flushed from the heat of the water. Her obvious unease made him grin, as one of his fingers (stuck in one of his many pockets) stroked the lacy panties and brassiere that should have been worn under her clothes. Although he expected her to cross to her room to retrieve a new pair, instead she strode purposefully over to him and herd out her hand.

"Give them back." Her tone was dull and serious.

"Only if I can watch you put them on." His was not.

"Betelgeuse." Sterner now, and her eyes hardened.

Beej gave an exaggerated sigh and pulled them out of his pocket, holding them out for her. Lydia rolled her eyes, and went to snatch them, but Betelgeuse pulled back, and the goth followed naturally in an attempt to free her lingerie. Before either realized it, their faces were inches apart. It was Lydia who realized it, and jumped back. Unfortunately, there was a coffee table behind her, and before either of them could realize it she tumbled over backwards, landing squarely it's surface. The table (which was just a cheap table for decoration in the first place) buckled under her weight and the lady crashed to the ground, landing on her back with a solid 'thud', her arms awkward and her legs up, knees bent….

…….and Betelgeuse could see everything.

Nothing moved for a beat, and then Lydia yelped, clamping her knees down to the ground and holding her skirt down. Her face flushed further, and Beej (who was transfixed) was motionless, his eyes glassy. But, with a shake of his head he regained his composure, and gave a wolfish smile to the vulnerable girl.

"Nice trim babes. Brazilian."

It was probably a stupid thing to say, but the only indication of that to the poltergeist was the solid slap he received once she was on her feet again.

"You…! You…!" Her face was beet red, standing before him trembling with rage.

Betelgeuse smirked "I didn't push you, Lyds."

It was a small comment, meant only for the angry banter he had begun to enjoy with the young woman. But when he saw the tear roll down her cheek, he realized he had misspoken. He didn't know what to say. He'd made a lot of women cry, yeah, but this was different- when he made other women cry, he could leave and let them get over it. After all, they were just a fling, or a one-night stand. Lydia was his wife, and he had made her cry. It hadn't even been a day.

"Aw, jeez…" It occurred to him in the instant following this moan that maybe he should have adopted a gentler, sympathetic tone, instead of the annoyed one he'd accidentally chosen.

"You asshole!" Lydia turned and fled to her room, wiping her eyes, and slammed the door.

Betelgeuse contemplated entering the room after her, but found his courage failed to raise him from the couch. Instead he pulled a cigarette out of his sleeve and let his head lean against the back of the couch.

"Well fuck." He said.

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A/N: I know I said I wasn't going to write until I got five reviews, but I was so touched by Personatus' comment that I felt revitalized. So this one's a tip of the hat to Personatus, GO READ THEIR STORY!!!!

And now I AM going to enforce the reviews thing. Darnit.


	6. In which there is friendship

A/N: Yeah, I know it sounds bad to write for reviews, but like I said, I'm going through a tough time so these are purely for you guys. I'm really putting in an effort to keep writing, cause it'd be really, really easy to stop.

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Inside her room, Lydia sat heavily down on her bed, wiping her eyes with her hand. It was stupid to cry over an accident, but the truth was that he was the first person who had ever actually…seen her. It was intimidating and it made her feel so vulnerable. It was as if Betelgeuse had just heard and seen every one of her deepest secrets and laughed at them. Why did he have to say that, anyways!? It was so vulgar! It was so crass! The goth glared at the ground, filling with anger. It wouldn't have happened had that bastard just kept his grubby hands off of her unmentionables!

Lydia sniffed and rose defiantly. She stalked to her dresser, pulling out replacement articles and got dressed properly before she prepared to go back into the living room. Her tears were gone now, and she had let her anger subside a little (for the moment) so that she could find out exactly what was going on. Level-headedness was key, she thought. This time she didn't take a deep breath before facing him.

**BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE**

Beej waited on the couch, having finished his snack. He could hear her sobs slow and stop, and after a little while she started moving around. He was terribly curious, as (from what he could recall) Sad girls didn't bump and tussle around so much. Carefully, he made his way around the couch until he could press his ear against the door. Something opened, then closed, and then fabric rustled. A moment passed, and BJ was about to head back to his perch on the couch when the door was jerked open., and Lydia walked into him with a sound 'thump!'. Both of them recoiled, and Lydia (who had ricocheted back into the bedroom) had to catch herself against her bed to stay upright.

"Babes! Watch where you're goin'!" The poltergeist growled, grabbing Lydia's elbows to help her regain steady footing.

"Maybe if I didn't have nosy men listening at my door, I wouldn't have to!" she retorted, glaring.

"I wasn't listening at your door!"

"Then what were you doing!?" the goth demanded.

"I was trying to see a little action! Y'know, sad, vulnerable…" Beej slid his hands up from her elbows, over her arms, until he could play with the collar she was wearing. "…Excited…."

"Get off of me! Ugh, that's sick!" She pulled out of his grasp and brushed past him into the living room, trying to shake off the gooseflesh that had erupted on her arms at his cold touch. Betelgeuse followed behind her as she flopped down on one end, and proceeded to watch him.

Lydia expected Betelgeuse to take the other end of the couch, so that they could talk about their situation.

Betelgeuse, however, had other plans. Not only did he not take the opposite end of the couch, but sat directly beside her, roughly putting an arm around her shoulders and leaning towards her in a terribly big-bad-wolfish way. The horrendous reek of his form was only slightly worse than the leer he was giving her.

"Do you have to be this close?" Lydia grimaced as she caught a whiff of something in the front pocket of the ratty overcoat he was wearing. "Ugh!"

"Well, if this isn't the right distance for you I could always get a little closer, heh heh…" He squeezed closer, letting his other arm wrap around the girl's waist. His leg, clad in the dingy grey pants he favoured with his red button-up shirt, wormed it's way under hers so that she was half-sitting on his lap.

"Betelgeuse!" Lydia yelped, and he flinched instinctively. In that split second she squirmed enough to push him away, breathing hard.

"Whaaaat!? It's what normal married people do!" He griped, adjusting his 'Guide' hat and pulling out the cigarette he'd stashed up his sleeve.

"We're not normal married people!" Lydia sighed, trying to collect herself. It was hard to deal with his obvious lechery when all she wanted to do was scream. "I need to talk to you. We've got to sort out what's going on."

"Whaddya mean, babes? We're married, nothing more to it!" He grinned at her with the cigarette between his teeth.

"There is so more to it!" she cried. "There has to be! I mean, there wasn't a preacher, or witnesses, there wasn't anything signed or-!"

"Hey, there was most of that! We just started up where we left off all those years ago!" He replied, eyeing her bosom. Lydia crossed her arms against the intrusion.

"I still didn't sign anything!"

"Things work differently in the afterlife, Lyds. There's no divorce, and you don't have to sign stuff- the kiss was enough." He grinned.

Lydia gulped at the memory of the kiss. Thought she didn't want him to know it, she had never really been kissed much. Sure, there were a few guys who she'd dated, and it wasn't like she was a virgin or anything, but kissing someone who she'd had a past with like she did with Betelgeuse was…unsettling.

And, even though she didn't acknowledge it to herself, it was kind of thrilling.

-----------------------------------

Beej watch Lydia when he mentioned their kiss. She seemed to withdraw into a sort of blushing-cocoon state. He grinned, loving that he could make her blush. In his mind, the image of the kiss only made his hand tingle where he'd grabbed her ass, and he felt the need to cross his legs.

Beej took a puff of his cigarette. "Alright. What's on yer mind?" He rested his elbows on the top of the couch, giving her a sideways look.

Lydia regained herself and cleared her throat. "I don't understand how this could happen after so long."

"Long story short- it says in the Big Book of Afterlife Bylaws that if a weddin' is stopped or interrupted, it can be completed at a later time."

"Even five years!?"

"Hey babes, I don't make the rules! Hell, I don't even THINK about rules! five years in eternity just ain't that big a deal!"

"So what does this mean?" Lydia asked tentatively.

Beej regarded her steadily. "It means you and I are married. It means that now I'm your guy, and you…" He went in for another grope, but Lydia was ready, and pushed him back. "Well, you just can't see anyone else."

Lydia's breath stopped for a moment, and in her mind she could see Axel in his denim jacket, his gorgeous eyes shining with energy and mischief.

"No! That's not fair! I never said I do!" She half-whispered in disbelief.

"Sure you did. The judge and I heard you perfectly." He said through another puff of the nicotine stick.

"That was you!" She growled.

"Still counts." He shot back.

Lydia rose from the couch, and stomped over to the small foyer, where she retrieved a black coat and leather gloves from the closet, then wrenched the door open.

"Where are you going?" He asked, annoyed at the girl's abrupt departure.

"OUT!" And with that, Lydia slammed the door.

**BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE**

Lydia's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and events, of fleeting images, snapshots in time and a plethora of sounds and silences. How could he make seeing Axel impossible? It wasn't fair! He couldn't control her life like that! How dare he swoop in and demand that she respect a marriage she never wanted?

The college girl made her way to Anya's dorm, a few floors down from hers. When she knocked, it took her friend less that a minute to open.

"Hey Lydia! What's up?" the blonde caught Lydia's stormy expression. "Uh-oh…is this about Axel?"

The pale woman nodded, and her friend ushered her into the dorm room. "I have a Haagen-Daas for that. Don't worry, my slutty roomie is out for the night."

Anya sat her unhappy friend down on her green couch. "Stay there, I'm calling Nadia."

It only took Nadia a few minutes to get up to the room they were in from her own a few levels below. She burst through the door without knocking, and the first thing she did was catch Lydia up in a bear hug.

"What an ass! I can't believe he'd be so bitchy!" She loudly complained. Then quieter, "What exactly did he do?"

Nadia's energy made Lydia smile a little, and the smile grew a little bigger when Anya brought over the tub of fudge-ripple ice cream, three spoons, and a bottle of schnapps.

"It's a…long story."

**BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE**

The poltergeist sat still in Lydia's dorm room alone for five minutes, to make sure that she didn't come back for having forgotten something before he began to rifle around. He needed to find out what the gothic girl liked, because he had a plan.

He'd decided that he was gonna seduce the Deetz girl. The dead man grinned, it was a great plan. If he was able to get her to sleep with him, then not only would she not be able to get an annulment, but also he could say he'd slept with her! It was foolproof!

He let a grisly smile grace his face as he looked around her bedroom. What did she think was sexy? Every girl had something indicative of her tastes. Whether it was a man's belt rolled up in the closet or a certain magazine type, or even just a hidden porn tape (As if every girl didn't have one, he thought).

The ghost headed for the closet first, knowing it was a prime hiding area. What he found in it was astonishing, to say the very least.

**BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE**

Lydia had made her decision to tell her friends the truth the moment Anya had opened the door to her dorm room. She told them the whole story, starting with the moment she'd met the Maitlands (who she realized she missed a lot) until the events that had transpired over the last 24 hours. When she was finished she felt a lot better, like explaining it had helped relieve the pressure. However, Anya and Nadia looked stunned and incredulous.

"No way." Was the raver's initial response. "That can't be true!"

"It is. Look, this is the ring. I can't get it off." Lydia replied, holding up her hand. Nadia gave it a few hard tugs, and the pale blonde girl tried minimally, having witnessed her friend's failure.

Anya was still processing, but still found it in herself to ask, "But what does this all have to do with Axel?"

"Betelgeuse said I can't see him anymore." The goth replied sadly.

"Fuck that, man. He can't control you! He has no right!" Nadia raged, eating another spoonful of fudge-ripple.

"That's what I thought too, but then I realized that something might happen to Axel if I didn't do what Beej says. I mean, what if there's a curse or something? Or what if he finds out?" Lydia moped.

"Let him find out! It's not his life, you don't belong to him!" Nadia's empowered words made Lydia feel better. She was probably right, after all. What was the worst that could happen after he'd forced her into marriage?

"I dunno, Nadia…" Anya cut in. "Lyds might be right. What if there's some kind of supernatural fidelity curse or something?"

As her two friends began to discuss her problems, the gothic girl found herself silently thanking whatever deity had allowed them to take the news so well. She doubted other people would have so readily accepted what she said. She also had an inkling that the bottle of schnapps they'd opened alongside the ice cream might have contributed just a little bit, though. Still, it was better than rejection. She smiled, and helped herself to more Haagen-daas.

------------------------------

A/N: What did Beej find in Lyds' closet? What will she decide to do about Axel? Why am I asking you???? Heh, I have a plan, don't worry. Also, that you for the reviews! However, I think I'm going to discount the Crimson Eagle's comments from now on merely because she's a friend of mine who didn't actually read the damn story. (-.-) Still, I appreciate that you guys are reviewing, and I'll keep working because of it! Next chap is gonna get pretty awesome…Booze Rebellion Beej XD


	7. In which there is alcohol

Betelgeuse stood in front of Lydia's closet, mouth agape. In front of him, unimaginably, was something he never expected to see again.

It was the red wedding dress that he'd juiced for her that evening five years ago.

It was complete with the veil, and hung with a plastic cover so that it wouldn't fade. The thing was immaculate- practically untouched! It was something unbelievable. It was amazing. It was perfect. This was the chink in Lyds' armor, he thought. The grin that had been on his face before he'd been astounded returned ten-fold. This was the key to his plan, and he didn't even have to do anything over-the-top to accomplish it.

"Lydia, Lydia, Lydia…" He purred, pulling it out of the closet. "What have you gone and done to yourself?"

**BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE**

Lydia, Anya and Nadia had made their way steadily through Anya's ice cream, two and a half bottles of schnapps and a bottle of redbreast, which Nadia had retrieved from her own room. Needless to say, the three were pleasantly buzzed. Nadia had put on some trance music, and Anya was content to lie back against the couch and stare at her fan, laughing every now and again. Lydia felt restless. The redbreast had endowed her with some reckless courage, and the ice cream's sugar had hit her system. Her foot tapped incessantly against the bass of the trance techno, and she continually glanced at the door.

"Jesus! Just go out and talk to him, fuck!" Her raver-friend barked, taking another swig from the bottle in her hand.

The goth girl grinned stupidly. "Nahh…Axel doesn't want me, I'm married!" She giggled, and bit the dark band on her finger.

"You don't have to do what that a- ass munch wants! You're your own person!" With these words the candy-kid reeled over, plopping down on the couch next to her and spilling booze on the cushions.

"You know, you're right! Why should I be forced to give up my youth? Fuck him, I can do what I think is right for me! Thanks, guys!" Lydia went to give them both sloppy hugs, but found that both of them had passed out. Darned drunks. She stood up, giggled and left the dorm, forgetting to shut the door behind her. Axel would probably be around campus somewhere by now, it was getting late. The sun had sunk beneath the horizon, and the pale waxing moon was rising. The grounds outside were only cold enough to need a sweater, nothing she couldn't handle with her jacket. The dim lamination disoriented the drunken girl, and Lydia had some trouble walking over the rough grass. The coffee shop was open, so she headed in its general direction.

When she (finally) arrived, the coffee shop workers were closing down for the night, but when asked, one of them said he'd seen Axel (or someone fitting Axel's description) had headed off in the direction of a small wooded area that surrounded the campus with a girl. Some pretty girl, he'd said, with red hair and a great rack.

After hearing about the Axel-look alike and his red-haired lady friend, Lydia was hurt, but not enraged. It wasn't him, she told herself. Just someone who looked like him. She tried to walk quickly, but found that her inebriated body wasn't agile enough, and had to plod along steadily to get to the few acres or forest. It wasn't long until she reached it, but her anxiety increased every moment, and the darkness was starting to become suffocating.

Then, from twenty yards in, she heard a woman's laugh and the obvious sounds of pleasure. The pale woman crept forward, doing her best to stay silent through her alcohol-induced stumbles. In a small clearing bathed in streaming moonlight was an erotic tableaux, a slow motion exchange between a curvaceous woman and…

Axel.

Lydia's heart seemed to stop, and for an instant, she was afraid she might cry. Axel, who she had felt a connection with. Axel, who had invited her to a party. She felt her eyes well up, and covered her mouth to avoid letting out a sob. Here he was, his hands kneading the redhead's ample breasts while his mouth traveled lower. The pale glow from the heavens created contrasting shadows, and the lines of his face seemed harder than she remembered them being.

And all at once, the sadness dissolved and Lydia filled with inebriated rage. How dare he? Just one day after their date and here he was with his face between another woman's legs! Without thinking, she flung herself into the midst of the scene, hollering.

"You asshole! How could you!?" Lydia's breath came short, and her drunken mind was murderous.

The redhead screamed, and tried to cover herself up. "Who the fuck is this? Axel what the hell?" She scooted back and tried to don her clothing, getting as far as panties and a shirt before the gothic girl rounded on her, slapping her squarely across the face.

"You fffucking tramp!" Her mind reeled, and she was jerked away from the other woman by two rough hands.

"Get the hell off of her? What's wrong with you?" Axel barked, shoving the pale woman bodily away from himself and the other woman.

"Shit, baby! I didn't expect this to happen!" He held his hands out to the redhead, but she slapped them away.

"You fucking asshole! I never want to see you again!" With that final outburst, the busty lady stormed off into the darkness, leaving Lydia and Axel alone in the forested area.

"You fucking bitch! What the hell is wrong with you?" He screamed, rounding on Lydia. "I was fucking busy!"

It was then that Lydia became hyper aware of her situation. He was much stronger than her, and much faster as she was inebriated. They were alone, at night, in a secluded area and suddenly the chill that she had felt earlier intensified drastically. She was terrified, and he towered over her, enraged.

"You fucking whore!" The raven-haired man shoved her, so that the goth girl could not remain on her unsteady feet and fell.

"Get the hell away from me!" Lydia's voice sounded small and afraid, and her vision swam.

"You know what you fucking did, bitch? That was my fucking fiancé! Look at what you've done!" He spat, following her to the ground and straddling her. It was at that point that the pale girl realized that Axel was also drunk, but considerably more so than she. His eyes were unfocused, and as he pinned her down she could feel his grip on her shoulders bruising her skin. He leant in close, growling against her ear.

"You're gonna fucking PAY for that."

**BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE**

Beej had taken the dress out of its protective coating and laid it out on Lydia's bed. He'd smoothed out the wrinkles, and was in the process of arranging the veil when he felt a chill. It was odd for him to feel chills, as (because he was a corpse) he was constantly cold, and didn't tend to feel cold. Still, it was a definite chill that sent shivers running down his spine. Unwittingly he glanced at the alarm clock on Lyds' bedside table and noticed it was getting rather late. Midnight wasn't exactly what he'd consider a curfew for himself, but it was different with Lydia- she didn't have immortality, magic, and an exterior that could make babies cry. He frowned, but continued to lay out the veil.

Three minutes later he got another chill.

"What the hell…?" He went to the window, intending to slam it when he heard something that froze him.

On the breeze, barely audible, was a woman's scream.

Betelgeuse had never jumped out of a window faster.

**BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE**

Lydia let out a piercing scream when she felt him bite into her clavicle, drawing blood. The bruises on her stomach and arms were black in the moonlight, and as Axel tore her shirt in a frenzy to remove it she felt hot tears slide down her temples. Above her in the night sky was the moon, still and silent. A cold voyeur to her humiliation and pain. His hand was under her bra flicking her nipple, which betrayed her by hardening.

"You love this, don't you, you fucking whore?" He teased, holding her hands above her head with one hand and roughly squeezing her breast with the other, eliciting sharp cries of pain from the helpless girl beneath him. He chuckled, letting his hand roam lower until it began to undo the clasp of her skirt.

"Noo…!" Lydia moaned, twisting away from his hand, which he brought up in a swift slap.

"Fuck you! You fucking screwed me over and now I'm gonna do the same to you!" Axel continued to fumble with her clasp, and as she heard it click open Lydia's horror and desperation peaked.

"BETELGEUSE!!" Her terrified scream reverberated across the grounds, but at the late hour there were few people outside.

It was luck, she supposed, that he was one of them.

**BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE**

When he heard Lydia's anguished cry, what little warmth there was in Betelgeuse's stagnant blood ran icy. With a speed he hadn't reached in over three hundred years, he arrived only to find what he had feared the most. The horrific scene took his sentience, his consciousness, and his judgment and locked them away is a small compartment of his brain. His vision was lined with red, and as he descended into the clearing it took every ounce of what shredded control he had left not to rip the kid in half. He stepped towards them slowly, afraid that any sudden movements would trigger something dire.

"You…" He growled, just loud enough for the punk to hear him. The kid jumped up from her, whirling around to face the more horrific thing he'd ever seen. To most, or an innocent bystander, it was just a ragged, creepy guy. But in the darkness, with his mind filled with irrepressible rage, Betelgeuse emitted an aura that made the leaves on the trees around them die.

"You…" Betelgeuse picked the asshole up by his denim lapels, the moonlight throwing his eyes into complete shadows as his other hand tightened around the kid's throat. Lydia, he could see out of the corner of his eye, had curled into the fetal position, whimpering.

She would get in trouble if he died, the poltergeist was sure. He couldn't kill him.

Supporting the punk by his throat now, he unclenched the hand that had taken hold oh his lapels and thrust it into the boy's stomach, repeating the motion until he saw flecks of blood fly from his lips. The boy gave a strangled scream, but the ghost only squeezed his throat until no sound could get through.

"Never." He thrust his fist a little bit higher this time, nearer to the other man's solar plexus. "Ever. Touch. Her. AGAIN." With each word he punched a little bit higher, and on the final syllable he jabbed his knuckles under Axel's sternum, and forced the air in his lungs to expel painfully. Then he dropped him bodily on the ground, and gave him a solid shot to the ribs with his boot. "Fucker." Betelgeuse spat on the cowering form, his aggression relieved. He stepped over the bastard and made his way over to Lydia, crouching beside her.

"Babes…?" He didn't know how to rouse her, as she seemed traumatized. The pale girl's eyes were terrified as she lay huddled on the rough ground.

"Babes! Babes? Shit." He tried waving his hand in front of her, but nothing more. He was afraid that a jolt to her system could do some damage to her heart. Useless things, always getting in the way!

Beej scooped her up and floated her tenderly back to the window of her dorm room, then shut it behind them. He placed her on the couch, and in the light took a look at her. Lydia's face was bruised at the chin and on her temple. Her throat and shoulders were bloody from a bite mark on her collarbone. She seemed to have gone unconscious somewhere between the room and the clearing. Her shirt was torn, and the bra (which, he remembered with a pang, he had made her wear by stealing her other one) was a crumpled mess. Her left breast was exposed and badly bruised. Betelgeuse cursed under his breath, seething at the fucking asshole who'd done this. He'd make him pay. Let the fucker heal, then he'd pay.

In her sleep, Lydia whimpered, and Beej felt his chest tighten. This wasn't supposed to happen, he thought. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

The dead man carried his injured bride to her room, and laid her on her bed, folding the blanket over her instead of putting her under it, even though it meant she was lying on the dress. Fuck the dress. He removed her shoes, and took off her bra because it was restricting her, twisted and broken as it was. Then he left the room, turning off the light and fixed himself a stiff drink.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

-----------------------------------

A/N: Man, I am not sticking to this damn reviews thing, am I? Oh well. I really want to try to get Beej into his movie persona, because I think I've been writing him slightly cartoon. The movie version is a lot more crass and adult…("Nice fuckin' model!" honk honk!) so I'm trying to bear that in mind. I kind of wanted to write the fight scene better, but decided to leave it as is because this chapter is negative enough without it. Anyways, hope you review, and I'll probably have ch. 8 up soon!


	8. In which there is contemplation

---------------------------

Lydia's consciousness returned before she opened her eyes. The light streaming in from her window cause sharp pangs of agony to explode in her head, and she kept her eyelids closed tight against it. Her stomach churned grotesquely, and she became aware of the dull throbbing occurring all over her body. She groaned, trying to recall what had transpired the night before. There had been alcohol, that was for sure. Then there had been a stumbling walk through the grounds. Then, there was something to do with Axel…

Lydia's eyes shot open as her memory suddenly flooded back. Axel had tried to rape her! She had found him with another woman and he had tried to rape her! The girl turned over onto her side, gagging, but not bringing anything up. Her stomach was empty. In her mind, surrounded by her awful headache, she remembered Betelgeuse's horrific beating, and the intense aura he'd given off. Slowly, she tried to sit up, only to find that her abdominal muscles were bruised badly enough to keep her on her back, for now. Lydia glanced at her clock, which read 11:00. She had to get up, it was practically noon, and she was missing her Monday classes.

Again she lifted herself, and managed to throw the blanket off only to find something that shocked her- she was laying on the wedding dress he had conjured for her all those years ago. It was rumpled and askew from her sleep, but it was definitely the red gown that he had intended to marry her in.

"Wha-?"

She slid her feet into her slippers, and tiptoed into the living room. On the navy couch, Beej's slumbering form had the essence and innocence of-

"SSNnnnnnOoOoorrrrkkkkK"

…A wounded buffalo. Lydia made a face as the poltergeist's horrendous nasal cacophony filled the room. He was lying on his side, still wearing the overcoat, red dress shirt and grimy pants. His 'guide' hat was lopsided on his ear and forehead, ready to fall off at the slightest touch. On the (still shattered) coffee table, a bottle of Jack Daniels had tipped over and was generously dousing her carpet. Had she had more energy, and been less bruised, the girl would've yelled at him for being repulsive. As it was, she could only bring herself to sigh, retrieve a roll of paper towels, and begin cleaning up the spilled alcohol. After all, the lug had rescued her. She owed him.

As she rubbed the absorbent towel over the table's broken surface, she turned her head to look at him. It occurred to her that (with the exception of their arguments) She hadn't really taken a chance to study him.

His face was awfully pallid, but then so was hers. He had dark rings around his eyes. She did too. He was dead. She felt dead inside. It was a horrible thing, but looking at the mould-encrusted face, with his bad teeth and ratty, untamed hair, she felt affection for him. She supposed it was hard not to feel affection for someone who had saved her from something unspeakable.

**BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE**

Betelgeuse heard Lydia's scufflings from the living room. In his mind, he decided that the best way to go was to fake sleep. Sleeping in someone else's home was a gesture that he'd come to realize people associated with trust. As he perceived her putting on her slippers, he rushed to flop down, and in doing so knocked over the bottle of booze he'd been nursing. Fortunately, because the thin plank of wood was on the carpet, it didn't make much noise. Beej reached to correct it, but the doorknob turned and he was forced to retreat into a fake coma. And nothing said 'fake coma' like a fake snore.

He heard her approaching footsteps stop and change direction after a stationary pause. They returned a moment later and he heard the familiar noise of ripping paper towel. She was cleaning up after him. Had he not been giving a stellar acting performance, he would have grinned. Had she really hated him, she would have tried to make him clean it up. (She also would have failed at that endeavor, but points for trying, right?) He listened closely as her rough scrubbing became softer and slower, as if she was in deep contemplation, but he could also feel her gaze wandering around his face. Beej began to wonder how long he could keep up his façade, as his eyelids were beginning to cramp. It must have been luck, he supposed when the door burst open.

**BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE**

Lydia's attentions to the floor and the ghost were ceased as her door banged open with enough force to make her wince in pain for her wall.

Beej sat bolt upright dramatically, losing his hat to the floor. In the doorway, Nadia, Anya and Patrick (who looked like he'd been in the middle of a football game) stood frantic.

"Lydia!! You've gotta see this, it's bad!" Anya's meek voice hissed out, flapping her arms to demonstrate her anxiety. Nadia darted back and forth like a puppy trying to be noticed.

"C'mon! C'mon you gotta get up!" the raver's eyes were wide and excited.

Lydia tried to hush the two girls, but found them inconsolable. In light of that she turned to Patrick. "What the hell is going on?"

Patrick ran his large paw-like hand over his head, searching for the words.

"I dunno Lyds. It's like a protest or something. You should really just come see."

Nadia ran inside her room, trailing Anya and Patrick behind. She wrenched open the living-room window and pointed outside. Once the window was open, a cacophony of noise poured in, angry and turbulent. Lydia covered her ears instinctively, and Beej walked over to stand next to Nadia, looking out.

"Aw, hell babes."

The ghost's whiskey-refined voice jolted the adolescent girl, and the candy-kid jumped away startled.

"Fuck, man! Are you the dead jerk guy?" Her question brought BJ to Anya and Patrick's attention (Patrick having been filled in by Nadia on the phone a few hours after Lydia's departure from the apartments), and the three stared at him critically.

Beej, loving attention, grinned. His trademark "ghost with the most" line slid from his lips and he waggled his eyebrows at Nadia's disbelieving expression.

Nadia, scowled back, and returned to looking out the window. Lydia joined the two and let her gaze fall to the grim display on the ground far below.

Axel and a dozen of brutish men stood loitering bellow, emanating an aura of danger and fury. Several of them had suspicious bulges in their coats, and many looked like prison escapees. The delinquents spotted them at the window and howled, shooting scathing remarks and degrading insults at the inhabitants, emphasizing certain activities they and Lydia could do. Only Axel remained stoic and silent amidst the rowdy crowd. The pale lady gulped, but held a steady countenance.

"I'm going out there."

**BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE**

Betelgeuse thought he'd heard her wrong. Her? Go out there? She was just a pale little slip of a girl, she couldn't hold her own against those hooligans! Of course, it was nothing he couldn't handle. He'd fought in much worse conditions. One didn't get by in the dark ages without having to struggle, and during certain famines he'd fought through thirty men for a mouthful of crusty bread, and back through the ravenous frenzied pandemonium to get away. The men had all be terribly strong from working a plow for thirty years, and he injuries he'd sustained had haunted him until death. At the thought, BJ unconsciously rubbed his shoulder, and winced. The pack of ragamuffins on the lawn were just punk kids. Hell, he could send 'em skittering from the window!

"Lyds, come on. You can't take those brats. Lemme handle it!" What better way to make her admit her love for him than by being a knight in shining armor! Why, the thought of how well it would work sent shivers to his crotch, which he promptly scratched.

Lydia wrinkled her nose. "No, thanks…" She stepped away from him, eyeing the scratching-hand as if it were diseased…. which it may have been. "I'll just ask them if they'll talk. If they'll agree to just talk, not fight, then I'll go down and see them."

Nadia was the first to speak. "People don't just get a bunch of fuckin' thugs around to talk, Lydia. They want some friggin' blood."

"Yeah, I agree. I think we should really consider our options." Anya injected.

Beej, finding the whole thing ludicrous, spoke a little louder.

"Seriously! I can take these idiots out right here, right now!" He mimed a zapping motion.

The girl persisted stubbornly. "No! If you escalate it into violence, then they'll only bring more and more people! We need to settle this now!" Without further advisory, Lydia shoved her head out the window and hollered. "AXEL!"

The band below grew quiet in a menacing, seething kind of way. Axel looked up.

"What?"

"I just want to talk!"

Even high above them she could hear the sniggers and barbs. She ignored them.

"I really just want to talk…I'll come down there if we both agree that there'll be no violence!"

Axel looked about his gang, exchanging nods and looks.

"Yeah, alright! Fine! But you come alone!" He yelled back, and the other men encouraged him with whoops.

"Fine! I'll be down in a minute!" Lydia called and drew herself back in. "See? Anything can be solved with diplomacy!"

Beej watched her carefully, feeling the tiniest bit of worry touching him. "Lyds, come on! Those guys aren't gonna tell you that they're gonna break the bargain! They just want to get you down there!" He grabbed her shoulder, trying to make her understand. The worry grew a little, as did her angry expression.

"Just because you have to solve everything with stupid fights doesn't mean I have to, you asshole!" She glared at him, and they shared an intense stare, both trying to outwill the other, getting closer and closer until the noses attached to their feral snarls nearly touched. It was Betelgeuse who backed off first.

"Fine! You can go- but I'm going to wait at the door!" He spat, gripping her by the elbow and pulling her towards the door. Lydia struggled against his grip, griping, but didn't protest his waiting.

Nadia, Patrick and Anya stood silently, watching the spectacle as it (noisily) carried itself out the door.

"What the hell?" Was Nadia's only comment.

**BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE**

She didn't understand what was the matter with him. He was being so contrite! Wanting to use her, and now wanting to protect her?

Of course, she thought, he just needs me to be free.

Beej's controlling grip on her arm pervaded into the elevator ride down, but Lydia relaxed into it as they neared the ground floor. She was terrified. Ahead of her was an angry mob. Behind her was an irate poltergeist. Lydia had never felt so cornered in her life.

Beej could feel the negative waves coming off of the girl. He was worried about her, hell he was horrified that she was doing this. In the forefront of his mind was his freedom. In the back of his mind…

The ghost let his hand slide down her arm until he gripped her wrist possessively. It wasn't holding hands, it was still controlling, but Lydia appreciated it anyways. She looked sideways at him, but his gaze was held firmly on the elevator door. Above the steel door, the red numbers flashed onto 'G'.

The elevator opened, and the two of them approached the heavy, yellow wood of the doors. On each side of the entranceway was a tall, thin, barred window, which BJ glanced out of.

"Are you sure you're gonna be okay?" He asked, his gravelly voice low and serious.

"I'll be okay, Beej." She replied, half disbelieving herself. The rowdy gang outside was getting louder and angrier.

"You can let go now." Lydia said quietly. Secretly, she hoped he wouldn't let go, that he would force her to stay inside and away from the mob that waited. But he let go, and she tried to compose herself.

Carefully, she opened the door, and let it swing shut behind her with a solid 'thud'.

A/N: Yeah, I know it's a little late, but better late than never, right? I'm sorry about that though, really…life is hectic and I'm trying hard to push through. The next chapter'll be pretty epic, I've got some cool stuff taking shape in my mind. As I said, 5 reviews and it's a done deal, 'kay?


	9. In which there is candy

--

--

There is very little that authors and poets have found to describe pure terror over the centuries of literature. Acute shivers running haphazardly over the body, freezing perspiration, or rigid hair follicles have been the usual description when it came time to portray true fear. But to Lydia Deetz, none of these things happened. She didn't feel the chill, or get the shivers. She didn't sweat. Her whole body felt like a dream, stiff and difficult to move, as if through water. Her eyes became impossible to close, to blink, and she was hyper-aware of everything around her.

Axel, standing still against the churning sea of delinquents, looked like ice. Lydia approached him, but stopped halfway between the door and the mob. Slowly, the black-haired man strode over, obviously furious. It made the goth wonder if he was still drunk.

"You fucking owe me, bitch." He spoke in low, dangerous tones. His cold blue eyes pierced her, and made her feel small before him.

"You tried to rape me." She replied, just as quietly. Damned if she would show him her fear.

Axel took a step forward, the gang behind him following. "You whore," he hissed. "You fucking whore, my fiancée left me because you couldn't fucking leave me the hell alone. We weren't together, we never fucked before, so what the hell was it to you? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Lydia's anger replaced her fear, flushing her face and taking her into a firmer stance. "You know what? Even though we hadn't done anything yet, you still asked me out, and you still took me to that fucking party!" She spat. "I had every right to believe you'd at least respect that, and not lead me on! I can't believe you tried to make me the other woman, you fucking bastard!"

Axel leant in close, showing his teeth. "You should have just shut the fuck up, you don't fucking own me, and I can screw whoever the hell I want! And if I want to have a whore on the side, then I fucking will, as long as she's not so uptight and self-righteous as you!"

The woman's fury grew, and carefully, silkily, she said "Even if I hadn't blown the whistle, she still would have left you, because when people really get to see you they realise that on the inside you're just a pompous, arrogant, lying little boy who's trying way too hard to get attention."

The fist knocked her hard on the side of her head, and she could feel warmth ooze out and drip down her ear. Her vision tunnelled and swam, just enough than she could see the other men descend upon her, clawing, kicking, feeling, pulling. Her whole body became raw and used, her hair tugged, breasts fondled, ribs kicked. Blow upon blow until blood flowed over her, all over, dirt and fists and feet and blood and…silence.

The agony-ridden girl opened her eyes, just enough to see the men around her transfixed on something else. Turning towards the dorm, it was terribly obvious what could have hypnotized them so.

**BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE**

Betelgeuse's womanizing was purely sexual. Truth was, having lived through the ages of feminine oppression, then enlightenment, he was rather against any form of sexism (Outside of romantic affairs, of course) that pertained to violence or abuse. So when the fist collided with Lydia's head, his instinctual disgust overwhelmed the poltergeist. In the night, when worry and fear had clouded his thought and personality, he had lashed out like a madman. It wasn't something he was proud of. Tough guy exterior? sure. Tough guy act? Yeah. Actually brutally beating someone? Preferably not. So that now, his mind clear and livid, he smiled. He was in control, not anger, not worry, and not jealousy.

Jealousy?

He didn't have time to ruminate on the unexpected thought as the gang of men descended upon Lydia, and he carefully changed.

**BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE**

In front of the dorm building, was a snack cart. Not an ordinary snack cart. It was a black-and-green snack cart. The popcorn in the dingy glass case looked mouldy, and the shelf of candy apples was positively black. Liquorice strings (ridden with insects) and peanut brittle crawling with spiders accentuated the horrible sight, but the cart was not what held the attention of the unruly boys. It was the cart's pusher. The smock was once white- it was not yellow-brown over the striped suit. Mossy hair under a ripped, stained paper hat would have seemed comical, had the satanic gleam in the pallid, grungy face been anything but murderously gleeful.

"Dude…. what the hell?" A voice in the back called out, and many shaved heads were scratched.

"Welcome one and all to Shady Slappy's Snack Shackette!! Come on over and have yerself a bite of the gooood stuffff!" He accentuated the final two words menacingly before popping up beside one particularly mean looking punk. Resting an elbow on the shocked boy's shoulder, Betelgeuse asked casually "What'll it be, gents? Some peanuts for the game?" Into the boys pants dropped a paper-bagful of cockroaches. The kid yelped and cried and jumped around, trying to itch and swat and shake all at once, sweating and begging his buddies for help. The other teens stepped back, stricken with disgust, horror and surprise.

Beej was behind them, then, whispering loudly in another prone jerk's ear. "Howabout a little candy for the ladyyy??" His rough voice smoothed creepily as the kid's clothes morphed into a flowery pink dress, complete with bows, frills and a heart-shaped box of maggots. With a high-pitched scream, the box fell, splattering others nearby in squirming grubs and slime. With a cackle and a swift movement, Beej was in front of Axel, who screamed in recognition.

"Y-you!" The playboy's face drained of blood, until he could match Beej's colour tone for tone.

"Listen up pretty boy. You get a special discount on all items." The ghost's lips quirked grotesquely. "EVERYTHING FREE!!"

The cart exploded, showering the gang in bits and pieces of insect and animals to sickening to list fully. Bladders slapped heads as they fell, and a barrage of centipedes pelted the men until they crunched under the sneakers of anyone foolish enough to move. A hailstorm of thick, furry spiders attached themselves to whatever they could- shirts, shoes, hair, cheeks…

Screams and cries didn't stir Lydia's composure. Overtop of her was a black and white umbrella, stuck into the ground shielding her from the rain of vermin. On the ground, splattered in mud from newly falling raindrops, Lydia saw only Betelgeuse's eyes from behind the erupting cart. Worried. Serious. Sad. Much more than the poltergeist who had tried to kill her father. In this man there was a solid base under the insanity. For a moment, they looked at each other as rain, mud and insects seemed to move slow motion across their vision. A firm hand clapped her on the shoulder.

"Come here, bitch!" Axel's crazed voice made her heart strain painfully in fright, her eyes wide and scared, still frozen on BJ. In his murky, alcohol-stained eyes, there was contempt and vengeance beyond what she could imagine. The night in the woods seemed like child's play when she caught this tiny glimpse into what could only be true hell. She saw him rise, slowly, almost hypnotically off the ground as Axel's pulling grip tore at her top.

"NOOO!! Betelgeuse, NO! Don't, please!" Her cries made the oblivious, deranged boy snarl viciously, misunderstanding her fear.

"Shut the FUCK UP!" The blue-eyed punk jerked her harshly, bashing her vulnerable form against the ground and any prone objects around them as he dragged her towards the street. Lydia, eyes locked on Betelgeuse's approaching form, continued to plead with him. She hated when anything died.

"Betelgeuse, no! God, please, fuck, NO! Leave him be! PLEASE DON'T KILL HIM!" The bruised lady's broken cries echoed in the corpse's ears. His temper, fuelling him further than any temptation could, was stilled minutely by the fearful girl's cries.

"Lydia…" He growled, unable to make any other words through his volcanic anger. She understood though.

"Beej, please don't kill him!" Lydia knew she was getting through, but how much? The painful grip on her shoulder was bruising her, but the indecision in the poltergeist's eyes hurt her so much more. Why wouldn't he just do this one thing? Why couldn't he just respect her values and let the jerk live?

Inside Betelgeuse's mind, a torrent of emotions flew around. He could see the hurt in Lydia's eyes, but the beast inside of him would not allow this thing- this kid- to go free. He would hurt Lydia physically, and it would hurt his pride more than any insult or jeer could. The kid had to die, but then Lydia would be so, so mad. Lydia had to be happy, but then he would never feel the same way about himself. How could he say he was a murderous badass if he was whipped enough to let a little slime like this go? Lydia's eyes were growing more and more distraught. As the punk dragged her forcibly towards a fleet of parked cars, Betelgeuse felt helpless. What should he do? What could he do? How could he do it?

"BEEJ! HEEELLP!" Lydia gave one final, ghastly cry as Axel swung open a nearby minivan's side door. In the ghost's head, something seemed to let loose, just stop, and along with it went the torrent of questions. Sentience be damned, he was feral. The whirlwind of confusion abated instantly, and instinct took over.

Lydia was his. His. The weaker male was trying to steal what was his.

With a small snarl, Beej took off after the punk, using to force of his momentum to crush him into the side of the van. Blood splattered the air as Axel cried out, releasing the struggling goth and falling limply to the pavement, where he curled up in the foetal position. The ghost descended upon him, choking him, raking at his eyes with yellowed fingernails and grinding his knuckles into whatever available body part he could find. Lydia screamed, trying to pull the wild man off of the prone figure, tears beginning to mingle with the heavily falling rain. When she finally did succeed, and pulled the corpse off of Axel, he was barely recognizable through the shredded flesh and blood. His lips were torn and fragmented, and one of his ears was half-missing, The boy's screams echoed even after the onslaught ceased, drawing the attention of the still-hysteric mob, who stopped their shrieking to observe the brutal damage being inflicted on their leader.

For a moment, everything was silent, except for Axel's tortured cries.

"Let's get the hell outta here!" A voice from within the gang, and with many nods and affirmations, the crowd quickly dispersed with their tails between their legs. Lydia only looked at Betelgeuse.

"Beej…" She tried to meet his eyes, but he looked away, holding his hands awkwardly away from himself and her to avoid getting blood on anything. "Beej, look at me!"

The dead man turned his head just enough so that she could see the flecks of gore on his face, and a sliver of his eye, which was horribly sad. Axel's cries turned to a pitiful whimpering.

"Leave me alone, Lyds." He said quietly, then faded away without another word.

"Beej…" She whispered. The sound was muffled by the rain.

**BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE**

What a fucking nightmare. Here he was, masterful, cunning, in-control Betelgeuse, getting all riled up because of some heavy-lidded broad. It was a disgrace. The poltergeist sighed and took another swig from the bottle, his fourth straight bottle of whiskey. It was a small penance he paid for being dead, but gottdammit it took a lot to get up a good buzz at his decomposition rate! One would think that without functioning kidneys, the sauce would shoot him straight to the moon! But, then again, having to blood current was a bit of a hindrance. With another bit, searing swig he turned away from the bar to survey the dusky scene in front of him. It was midday, so all the hopeless middle-class men were still pining away at their desks, while hardcore booze-hounds were still recovering from the previous night's hangover. The women were older, less appealing, and the rough jazz strained from the speakers. The bartender was an older woman, who seemed content to wipe the counter endlessly.

"Hey babes," BJ slurred at her. "I'm a-attractive guy, eh?" He let out a droopy-eyes grin, in the hopes of polishing her answer.

"Honey," She replied evenly. "You got a world o' scrubbin' to do." The barkeep put down the rag and picked up a pack of slim cigarettes. Beej accommodatingly held out his tarnished Zippo lighter (rarely used, since he kept his smokes lit) and gave her a light. The watches that adorned his arm caught her attention.

"So what's a grimy fellow like you doin' with so many fancy watches?" She asked, puffing lightly on the tobacco stick.

"I got a watch for every time zone of my favourite places," The ghost murmured. "Travel the world enough, and eventually ya get sick of resetting yer watch." He pulled out a thick, acrid cigar and stuck it between his lips. The lady didn't notice the already-burning tip.

"So what's that one for?" She tapped a silver watch with a cornflower-blue face with her knuckled, nearly lighting his sleeve on fire with the cigarette between her fingers.

"That one's Mykonos Greece. Prettiest broads in the world, best Greek food in the whole damn country."

"And this one?"

"Heh. Amsterdam. Of course. They got bars there like nothin' you ever saw…"

The conversation went on just so for over an hour. By the time Betelgeuse left the bar, buzzing with booze and fond memories of destinations past, his spirits were lifted considerably. Hell, by the end of the trip the bar broad wasn't lookin' so bad herself, neither, Beej thought as he stepped out of the bar and onto the last stub of his second cigar.

**BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE**

When Beej arrived back at Lydia's apartment, ready for an inevitable fight over brutality or lack of sense or some other stupid offence that Lydia bestowed upon him, he was surprised to find it so dark in the setting sun. Lydia's bedroom was oddly tidy, and in the refrigerator he found a note tacked to his case of booze.

_Beej, _

_I've gone to my parent's place for a while. I need some time alone._

_Don't follow me, and don't make any scenes while I'm gone._

_Lyds._

The ghost was first glad that he didn't have to do the whole argument thing. Then he realised Lydia was gone, without any sign of coming back, and he was sad. Then he was offended by her assumption that he would do something stupid. (Of course he would, but she didn't have to point it out like he was predictable!) Finally, he let out a small grin when he realised she had signed her name with the nickname he had given her.

She would be his yet. He just needed patience, because she was doing all the work herself.

--

A/N: 20 000 words! Woohoo!

A BIG HUGE WHOPPING THANK YOU to my reviewers, some of you (you know who you are, you splendid, wonderful people you!) are the light of my life! I'd go through and list you all, but it's 1:00 in the morning and I have a test tomorrow. YOU MAKE ME LIVE!

Anyways, sorry about the delay, I was away for spring break, and it ran a little long! (Coupled with a nervous break down that kept me bedridden for two days, I'm even surprised this is out!) anyways, more BJLyds coming up!


	10. In which there is driving

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The drive back to Winter River was peaceful, but Lydia's mind was churning too much for her to take even the slightest notice of the lines on the road or where she was going. She'd been down this highway only a few times before, but her body knew without her where to go. Everything was falling apart. Her schoolwork was suffering (though she'd gone to her professors to get extra work before leaving), her photography was at a standstill and Betelgeuse-

Well, Betelgeuse was Betelgeuse. She didn't know what else to think. He'd swooped back in and just as fast as he'd twisted her life the last time, he'd twisted it this time. She hated him for it. But right now, with one hand on the top of the wheel and the other hand gripping her third cup of coffee (a little something to keep her going through the night) she could only think of him standing in the quickly dissipating rain. With blood on his face and gut-wrenching regret in his eyes, Lydia realised something. Someday she might see the dead man without clothing, but she might never again see him naked. It was a lot to process.

Especially if Axel tried to press charges. Now there was a whole 'nother barrel of problems.

***BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE***

Betelgeuse was bored. Really bored. With Lydia gone, and a whole 'lotta waiting to do, he didn't have much to fill his time. He spent his first few hours after awakening (rather early in the morning) leaving embarrassing messages on Lydia's cell phone, and then signed her up for a few credit cards and mailing lists. After all, he had to make sure he didn't go soft. He later made himself useful by playing with the electronics in other kids' dorm rooms, spying on locker room showers (The girls in them were okay, but he was pretty sure Lyds' goods were better) and learning new ways to enter Lydia's room. (As a poltergeist, he didn't get the neat 'walk-through-walls' thing that ghosts got, but he could enter through vents, doorways, poorly-sealed grout, and other holes). So far, he'd found six fairly easy access points, and was looking into her closet when the phone rang. He answered it with a chipper "Whaddya want!?"

"Hey. Is this the bug-guy?" Nadia's voice asked.

"Yeah, this is the B-man. 'Sup?" Beej hoped Nadia just wanted to talk to Lydia so he could tell her she was gone and be done with it, but no such luck.

"Hey, listen, I was seriously freaked by what you did to the ass that was railing on Lydia…"

It occurred to Beej that he didn't like the idea of anyone 'railing on Lydia' except for him. The blonde stayed silent to let her continue.

"…So, like…you're not gonna hurt her, are you?" It was plain to him that Lydia's friend was concerned enough to make herself look foolish by being blunt with him. He winced internally for coming off so strong on a first impression (a ridiculous thing for him to feel guilty about by his usual standards, but he did), and hoped she hadn't had a good view of what he'd done to the kid.

"No, Lyds is fine with me. I wouldn't hurt her, she's special to me...I dunno what it is, but damn is she ever special to me." Hewas trying to sound honest. He wondered whom he was trying to convince of it.

"Really?"

"Yeah, really." He plopped down on the couch, glad that Lydia's phone was cordless. He felt like he was surrendering, "Lydia means somethin' to me, and I'm not gonna do anything to her." It was obviously the booze.

"Oh. Ok then." Nadia hung up without another word, Leaving Beej to sort out some new thoughts. Damn alcohol.

Maybe Nadia was drunk, too.

***BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE***

Lydia arrived at her parent's house before noon, her watch telling her it was ten. The gothic girl was exhausted, her body revolting against her newly formed sporadic sleep patterns. As she climbed the creaky wooden steps to the door, she got a flashback of her first ever time on the porch- taking photographs in the hopes of discovering something strange.

Boy, was that ever successful.

She entered without knocking, knowing that since her stepmother had begun dragging her father to daily yoga lessons in the morning they wouldn't be around anyways. Quietly she crept up to her room, not wanting to run into the house's more permanent residence before she could get some sleep. Her bed stood covered in an old bedspread of the Maitland's, which was a garish paisley (Lydia had positively refused to put a designer bedspread over her familiar mattress, as Delia had been on a surrealist kick at the time and thought that a bedspread made of medical supplies was a perfectly wonderful idea. The old floral print residing on her bed now may not have been the height of pleasing, but anything was better than band-aids.

Lydia flopped down on the worn but comfy mattress and fell deep asleep within minutes. In her subconscious, the scenes that played out were strung along at random, displaying for her entertainment scenes from her life. At first, her mother held her hand and spoke to her but Lydia couldn't hear her voice. Then the hand she was holding was Barbara's, and Adam stood on her other side to take the adult into kindergarten. While she played amongst the toys with the children around her, she noticed that their faces were eerie- smiles a little too broad and a little too round, until the entire class morphed into jack-in-the-box dolls, which cackled familiarly. When Lydia looked back for Adam and Barbara, they were gone, and there was Beej, gruesome and larger than life standing before her. He wound a giant putrid green box, laughing maniacally as the off-key music droned, grating against her ears. The temperature in the room was incredibly cold, and the purple-grey tones that the walls had taken on seemed to be sheer ice. Betelgeuse looked at her, huddling for warmth, and smiled as he turned the wind-up once more. Out popped Axel. His eyes were evil and red, and he was ragged- more feral than he'd ever been for real. Horrid yellow eyes, jagged teeth and wounds- gaping, bleeding gashes all along his face and torso gushed blood that pooled up and cemented her to the floor. Lydia yelled but her throat seized up as Axel advanced on her, his skin peeling away as if Betelgeuse was tearing at him again, but this time as the blood spurted out from his nose and mouth he just laughed, his voice hollow and far away. Just as he advanced enough to lunge forward to grab her, the woman was lifted away by a cold pair of arms. She looked up to see Betelgeuse grinning at her as they rose away. Then Beej melted into Adam, and everything around her became familiar. She was awake. Adam and Barbara were lifting her back onto her bed, and she assumed that she'd fallen out of it during her nightmare.

"Lydia?" Barbara's voice was soft, trying not to wake her if she wasn't yet conscious.

"Hey." The sleepy girl smiled at them, moving into a sitting position as the ghost let her go. "I'm home." Lydia yawned.

"When ever did you get in? Why didn't you come say hi?" Barbara asked the tired woman.

She grinned. "I drove through the night, and I thought I'd better get as much rest as I could before the interrogation as to why I'm here."

"That was smart," Adam agreed. "You'll also need a hearty lunch- Delia has been out of her mind with anxiety about 'the lack of contact with her loving family'!" He mimicked the irksome redhead's snipped, flustered syntax perfectly, and the three of them giggled at their secret regard. It was a happy reunion.

***BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE***

No, no, no. He was going soft. As the afternoon began to pass by almost unnoticed, bleeding into the evening. Betelgeuse had had time to think about his behaviour, and the more he drank the more conclusions seemed to appear to him. Why should he feel bad for beating the ever-loving shit outta some punk who'd been hittin' his broad? Sure, she hadn't wanted him to but what did she know? Lydia thought everyone had a good side! It was a perfectly appropriate response, and she could just deal with it. After all, he'd told her on their wedding night- the ghost with the most doesn't share. Talk about being whipped if he was lettin' her affect his judgement so early on in their relationship! With a huff, he left the night club he'd emptied out of boredom and looked up to the stars. He'd show her what was what! With a touch to the brim of his hat he was off into the night.

***BETELGEUSEBETELGEUSEBETELGEUSE***

Adam had been right. When Delia and Charles had arrived home after lunch Lydia had to endure quite the tirade from Delia on "keeping in touch". It seemed to confirm to the girl that her stepmother was in fact trying to control her even from so far away. She made a mental note to call even less.

The afternoon was pleasant enough- Delia went into town to get this or that. Charles and Adam bird watched from the blonde's office, and Lydia found herself baking cookies with Barbara. It was wonderful to be in the warm kitchen surrounded by the scent of cookies, covered in flour. They talked about her schoolwork, and her new friends. Barbara told her about her father's new job writing for the local paper and Delia's latest art-flop. As the last batch of gingersnaps left the oven to cool on the windowsill, Lydia felt she finally had a chance to talk to her friend.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course you can!" Barbara replied, setting down two mugs of earl grey tea and a plate of cookies.

"What would you do if Adam did something for you….something important, but you didn't want him to do it?"

Barbara considered it. "I don't really understand what you mean."

"Well," Lydia started. "What if Adam saved you, and you needed to be saved…but he just did it in a way you didn't like."

"I suppose I would be mad at him a little," Barbara replied. "But I would appreciate that he saved me."

Lydia pressed on. "But what if…What if he hurt someone to save you?"

Barbara gave her a long look. "Lydia, what is this about?"

It was then that Lydia realised she was crying. Tears rolled down her face one after the other, and a sob broke free of her chest. "Oh, Barbara….I just don't know what to do about him!" The pale woman let her head fall into her hands as her maternal friend went around the table to rub her back and mumble sweet things to console her, sweet but meaningless utterances. Lydia regained herself.

"I'm sorry," She wiped her eye with her thumb. "I didn't mean to just…break like that."

Barbara was unconvinced of the calm that Lydia was now trying to maintain. "Lydia, what's this about? Who is 'he'?"

"He's…it's…." How could she say it? How could she tell Barbara about the wedding? How could she tell her about his awful antics, how could she tell her about his rage? How could she tell her about her feelings for him?

She was spared the effort when Adam bolted down the stairs, panic making his voice crack and waver. "Barbara! It's him, it's Betelgeuse! He's HERE!"

From upstairs, a male scream echoed and something crashed.

--------------------

A/N: Who are we kidding. I make no promises about updates anymore, I always break them, but I do promise that there will be sex, there will be a climactic ending, and as of four minutes ago I actually know what's gonna happen before that all gets resolved. Anyways, I'm back, so I'll try to keep up the updates but no guarantees.


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